Palms' Lullaby
by Branmuffinpower
Summary: Sequel to “The Wedding and Bedding of Willy Gilligan” or standalone fic. The nights of passion between Mary Ann and Gilligan bear fruit. Ginger suspects the Professor of infidelity. Tension can be felt by all as Gilligan’s Isle gets a little stranger...
1. Father Knows Least

**Summary: **Sequel to "The Wedding and Bedding of Willy Gilligan" but can be read as a standalone fic. The nights of passion between Mary Ann and Gilligan bear fruit. Ginger suspects the Professor of infidelity. Tension can be felt by all as Gilligan's Isle gets a _little stranger_…

**Author's Note:** This is actually NOT a one shot. I plan to make a full story out of this one. Just note it may take awhile between updates. I hope you enjoy

Palms' Lullaby

**Chapter One**: _Father Knows Least_

"BLUGGHHHHH," a wave of nausea hit Mary Ann like a massive tidal wave. She doubled over and let that morning's oysters and coconut milk hit the sand in an explosive display. As she clutched her stomach and let out another violent surge of half digested food her best friend very gently gathered the brown strands of her companion's hair into a ponytail to prevent it from being caught in the crossfire of the projectile vomit.

"Oh god…" Mary Ann groaned pitifully as she struggled to find her footing. Ginger hoisted her to her feet and put one arm around her steady her almost intoxicated-like swaying. "I knew shouldn't have tried to salvage those week old oysters." She let out another deplorable sound before another wave crashed and in another moment she was back on her hands on knees watching the turtle eggs join the rest of her breakfast.

"Ginger," she choked out, before her stomach could toss up anymore food. "Please get Gilligan for m-UGGGGGGH!" it was too late though. Up came the papaya and banana in what seemed to be a final outburst. "Ohhhh, please get him for me, I feel terrible," she groaned, as she laid down on her side and held her stomach. The tall red head needed no extra incentive as the brunette heaved again. She dashed off to find the younger girl's gawky, awkward first mate of a husband who at that moment was peacefully sitting by the oyster bay.

Gilligan hummed softly to himself as he opened up another oyster and held it up to his eye. "Nothin'," he said irritably before tossing it on a rather large pile of opened oysters. He plucked another from the smaller pile and was just about to open it when he heard his name being called. He saw the tall form of Ginger, decked out in a beautiful blue evening gown, come through the foliage, calling his name. "Over here Ginger," he said casually, now inspecting the new oyster. "Nothin'," he frowned tossing it aside.

"Oh Gilligan, there you are," Ginger said slowing down as she approached him. "What on Earth are you doing?" she said taking in the scene. There was a pile of open oysters almost as tall as she and a much smaller one at the first mate's feet. "You're looking for pearls?" she guessed, not finding any other possible explanation.

"Yeah, for Mr. Howell," he said, picking up another one. "See it's his and Mrs. Howell's thirtieth wedding anniversary on Friday and he wanted to give her something real nice, like pearls," he explained. He looked inside the new oyster. "Except they must be hiding 'cause I haven't found a single one all morning."

"Gilligan," Ginger began. "Is Mr. Howell paying you to do this?"

"Yes, of course," Gilligan said throwing another empty mollusk onto the pile.

"Well that's a relief," Ginger said. "How much is he paying you?"

"Three bananas an hour," he looked up at her and smiled. "The best rate on the island!"

Ginger sighed heavily, feeling badly that the young man was once again taken in by his naivety. She did not have time to think about this long though, as her memory was suddenly jogged and she remembered poor Mary Ann, crumpled up by the lagoon, her half digested breakfast surrounding her.

"Oh Gilligan! I completely forgot what I came down here for. Come on, we've got to go," she grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet with surprising strength.

"But Ginger, if Mr. Howell comes down here and sees that I'm taking a break, he's going to say – "

"Oh Gilligan, never mind Mr. Howell. Mary Ann is throwing up all over the lagoon, and she wanted me to get you," she tugged on his arm and began leading him back into the jungle.

"Mary Ann's sick?" Gilligan felt his throat constrict and his feet root to the floor. "What's wrong with her? What's she got? Did you tell the Professor?" his questions came faster than Ginger could handle.

"Gilligan," she tried to interrupt him but he was already going too fast.

"I'm sure he could think of something. He's a real smart guy, he knows all sorts of things about diseases and stuff. Oh I don't know what I'd do without Mary Ann. She's so sweet and kind and wonderful. She never asks for anything and now she's sick and – "

"Gilligan!" Ginger snapped. He looked up at her as if he just noticed she was there. "Gilligan, I'm sure she'll be fine," Ginger reassured him. "She just needs comforting I think," Ginger said, back tracking to where he had stood. "Come on now," she said gently, giving him a 'come hither' hand gesture.

He looked at her as though he was scared about what he might see. Despite his fear for his beloved though, his love for Mary Ann made his legs move. Gilligan obediently began to follow her, but his mind raced to a place where he saw Mary Ann with a fatal disease. A place where she clutched his hand and said with great intensity he would have to try and be brave. He was dreading hearing her dying words to him when to his massive relief he saw her leaning up against a rock by the lagoon, her head in her knees.

"Mary Ann!" he cried seeing her curled up form by the lagoon. "Mary Ann!! Mary Ann!" he called to her as he dashed away from Ginger towards his young wife. Upon hearing her name, she lifted her head ever so slightly to see him running towards her. She gave a small smile, letting her knees hit the floor, sitting upwards as he collapsed to his knees beside her.

"Gilligan," she said fondly, reaching up to touch his face.

"Mary Ann," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her and bringing her to his chest. "I was so worried about you," he said into her shoulder.

"I'm fine, Gilligan. I just ate something that didn't quite agree with me," she said soothingly, stroking the back of his head.

"You sure?" he said pulling away from her, and locking his gaze with hers.

"I'm sure Gilligan," she said pulling him back to her, as she gently buried her head in the crook of his neck. From afar, Ginger couldn't help but smile. Gilligan very rarely let Mary Ann show any displays of affection in public (and by public, Ginger of course meant the five other people on the island). It seemed to her while he very much loved Mary Ann, he was incredibly shy and was embarrassed with intimacy in front of anyone who was not her. It was a rare treat when Ginger saw them shamelessly embracing by the lagoon, kissing sweetly between soft whispers.

"What's all this about?" a voice came from behind her. Ginger was slightly startled by her own husband's voice, but when she saw him she merely smiled knowingly.

"Just some bad oysters," she said cryptically. The Professor cocked an eyebrow, as Ginger continued to watch the young couple. A thought popped into his head and he couldn't help but share.

"Did you know," he said, pulling her red hair aside so he could whisper this seductively in one ear. "That oysters are a natural aphrodisiac?" Ginger turned ever so slightly to look at him.

"Is that so?" she purred.

"Yes it's true," he continued to say in a low heated voice. "It's said that oysters a very rich in rare amino acids that actually increase the productivity of sex hormones," his hand was gently trailing down her arm as he said this. "That and their exorbitant zinc content, which has high levels of testosterone." He bent down to place a light kiss on her throat.

"That sounds wonderful dear," she said turning to face him now, her hands on his chest. "But it was Mary Ann who threw them up, not me," she said slyly.

"Oh then, I suppose I should be talking to her," he said jokingly as he took a step away from Ginger and began to walk towards Mary Ann and Gilligan. He was stopped when Ginger's hand wrapped around his wrist.

"I believe she's a bit preoccupied," Ginger said, pulling his body to hers, putting her arms around his neck. He turned to look at Mary Ann and Gilligan to see that the young man had scooped his bride into his arms and was now taking her back to the huts. The Professor turned back to Ginger.

"It would seem that way," he said. "Perhaps we should follow their example?" he suggested.

"I can't wait that long," Ginger said breathlessly. She got on her toes and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. She teasingly pulled back to see his eyes were closed still savoring the taste of her lips. He slowly opened his blue eyes to find her looking up at him with a playful expression on her face.

"Neither can I," he said truthfully, before wrapping arms around her midriff and pulling her roughly against him. In a matter of moments, he had her pinned against the nearest tree and she was mercilessly tearing open his white collared work shirt.

"What if – if someone," Ginger tried to get out between kisses. "Someone sees us?" she finished as he began to trail kisses down her neck and chest.

"They won't," The Professor assured her as he looked up briefly. "The Skipper is getting lumber, The Howells are playing golf and now Mary Ann is with Gilligan. I checked before I came to find you," he said with a wicked smile.

"Professor!" Ginger pretended to be offended. "You planned this?"

"Yes, of course," he whispered, putting his hands on her neck to bring her forward. "We've been so busy lately, what with my writing and the last failed rescue attempt, I wanted to be alone with you for once," he said sincerely. Ginger smiled as he placed another sweet kiss on her lips. He then grinned devilishly and pushed the straps of her evening gown off her shoulders and began to kiss her jaw line. Ginger wanted very much to get herself lost in the moment; however, something was nagging at the back of her mind.

"Dear," she stopped him before he went any further. "When are you going to tell me what your book is about?"

He stopped his passion momentarily to grimace. "I already told you Ginger, it's about my findings in chemistry. They wouldn't interest you," he said trying to get her to drop the subject. Ginger would not be deterred this time. She had walked into their hut several times to find him writing something which he would hastily cover up. And what she did see didn't look much like chemistry as there were no equations or diagrams of any sort. It appeared to Ginger to be much more of memoir than a textbook.

"I just don't understand why it's such a secret," Ginger reasoned. "I mean I am your wife," she said as though she were a bit hurt.

"I told you," the Professor stated firmly. "You'll see it when it gets published. You have enough faith in me that it will, don't you?"

"Yes, of course I do," Ginger said. "But – " he cut her off with a finger to her lips.

"Good, then let's not ruin the moment," he said ending the subject. He pushed a hand through her hair as he let the other one rest on her hip. Ginger promptly forgot about the book and put her hands to his bare chest, basking in the warmth he gave off. She moved them upwards and then secured her arms around his neck. His hand moved up her long leg, gathering the glittery material between his hands and pushing it up to waist.

"I've missed this so much," he said lustfully in her ear. Ginger merely responded with a soft sound that was indistinguishable from a moan and a sigh. His hands were at the top her dress, gently pulling it down to expose more of her pale skin. She helped him along by pushing it all the way down so her dress was gathered all around her hips.

"Ginger," he whispered, putting his hands to the exposed flesh. Ginger hissed softly at the coldness of his hands.

"Your hands are cold," she said, laughing a bit.

"Well you know better than anybody body heat is one of the most efficient methods in calefactory stimulation," he said against her white throat.

"Mmm," she almost hummed. "I love when you talk that way." She moved her hand down to his pants to remove his belt. She had just begun to unbuckle it when the two heard a rustling of bushes a few feet away.

"What was that?" Ginger said, alarmed, looking over her husband's shoulder at the seemingly quiet wilderness. The Professor listened intently to the surroundings, sure that if someone were there he would have known. After a few moments he turned back to his lover.

"I'm sure it was just a bird or something," he said pulling her mostly unclothed self back to him. He leaned in for a kiss to reinstate the passion when another noise alerted them to someone else's presence.

"Mr. Howell!" came Gilligan's voice over the trees. "You don't understand, Mary Ann was very sick and I had to take care of her."

Ginger and the Professor exchanged alarming expressions. "I thought you said they were golfing!!" Ginger said anxiously.

"They were!" The Professor said, now glancing around for somewhere to hide.

"Oh I knew this was a bad idea!" Ginger whimpered. The footsteps were getting closer.

"My boy, when a man is paying you to do a job you have a duty to uphold!" Mr. Howell boomed from a few paces away. "You can't be preoccupied with every little thing that's going on at home," he said good-naturedly. The Professor nervously jumped away from Ginger to look for his shirt which was nowhere to be found. As he leapt away from her, her gown fell to floor without his body keeping it at her waist. She bent down to pull it back up, however the Professor grabbed her arm.

"There's no time," he whispered urgently.

"But – " Ginger tried to protest.

"By the time you've got it on they'll have already seen!" he said pulling her into some nearby bushes. Not five seconds later Mr. Howell and Gilligan walked through the spot where Ginger and the Professor's abandoned clothes lay.

"But Mr. Howell, the pearls, if there are any, aren't going anywhere," Gilligan tried to reason with Mr. Howell.

"Well if the girl is so sick, neither is she!" the millionaire insisted.

"Mr. Howell, Mary Ann needs me right now," Gilligan tried to plead.

"Codswallop!" Mr. Howell nearly yelled. "Mary Ann is in my wife's excellent care until you return."

"But Mr. Howell, Mrs. Howell said Mary Ann was working on her dress. It doesn't sound very much like Mrs. Howell is taking care of her at all."

"Shows how much you know," Mr. Howell said. "For your information, Lovey is perfectly able to double as a model and a nurse simultaneously. Howells for generations have taken up multiple careers as we're so naturally gifted."

"But Mr. Howell – "

"Gilligan, as your employer, this is simply not up for negotiation!" He added just to himself, "These union workers are never satisfied."

"What was that Mr. Howell?" Gilligan asked.

"Nothing, nothing dear boy! Now hup two!" He swung his cane for emphasis but it ended up flying into the undergrowth. "By gods!" shouted a now infuriated Mr. Howell. "It's just impossible to get good help these days."

"Don't worry, I'll get your cane, Mr. Howell," Gilligan said walking over to where the cane had flown.

Mr. Howell seated himself on a nearby boulder when he noticed something on the ground near his foot that he had not noticed before. He bent down and picked up Ginger's glittering blue dress between his fingers. "What on Earth?" gawked the stunned multimillionaire. As Mr. Howell began to work out the origins of this mysterious cloth, Gilligan was already on his hands and knees, inches away from Ginger's left foot. He got on his side and reached his hand into the bushes and began to feel around for the cane. He was surprised when he found something else.

"Hey, Mr. Howell I got your – " he moved his hand around to the object and realized it was not a cane. "I got something, anyway." He sat up on his knees and pushed a few ferns out of the way to get a better look. He was utterly bewildered when he saw a blue high heeled stiletto with someone's foot in it.

"Hey look a foot," he said casually. He let his eyes wander up from the foot, to the leg and up further still. He was absolutely shocked when the image of his fellow castaways semi nude and embracing tightly entered his view. Ginger and the Professor looked at each other guiltily as the younger man yelped and scrambled to his feet.

"Ginger! Professor! What are you doing out here and why don't you have your clothes on?!" He was now covering his eyes

"Well I can venture a guess," Mr. Howell piped up, approaching the scene. "But it would hardly be proper!" he exclaimed. No one was amused. Gilligan was feverishly walking back and forth, eyes still covered as to ensure hitting leaves and tree trunks and even Mr. Howell. Ginger and the Professor merely looked awkwardly around, avoiding eye contact with the two other men.

"Oh I believe this belongs to you, my dear," Mr. Howell extending Ginger's dress to her, when he noticed her staring at it, absolutely mortified. Ginger bit her lip and extended her hand slowly whispering 'thank you' so she could barely be heard.

"Well at the risk of offending any other youngsters I would kindly suggest you two find a room," Mr. Howell said, grabbing one of Gilligan's arms and leading him away. It was quite plain though that he found the whole situation humorous as he gave the Professor a thumbs-up while he dragged off the mentally damaged first mate who was still shaking his head vigorously and covering his eyes.

…

It was noon, several hours since Mary Ann first thrown up and she was so far feeling much better. However, she couldn't help but notice she still had nagging cramps in her stomach and she feared that perhaps more may come up at any notice. She tried not to let it interfere with her daily routine though. Mrs. Howell had just recruited her for a sewing project which involved making a new dress for the Howell's thirtieth wedding anniversary. She had strolled in the other day with fabrics and flowers brimming over the top of her arms and dumped them unceremoniously on Mary Ann and Gilligan's bed.

"Mary Ann, I have absolutely nothing to wear," Mrs. Howell bemoaned, sitting herself by Mary Ann's vanity table.

Mary Ann, apart from being a little miffed about Mrs. Howell barging into her hut, was ever concerned about her fellow castaway. However, upon inspection of the pile, she would say that Mrs. Howell was definitely stretching the truth some.

"It looks to me like you've got enough there," Mary Ann said good naturedly. She crossed her arms and smiled. Mrs. Howell was obviously not in the mood for such levity.

"Oh you simply don't understand!" Lovey Howell insisted. "Thurston and I will be celebrating our thirtieth wedding anniversary this Friday! Don't you know what that means?" she inquired.

"No, what?" said the ever-curious Mary Ann.

"It means that the traditional gift is a pearl," Mrs. Howell enlightened. Mary Ann studied her still not understanding exactly what this had to do with anything. "Well I simply have nothing to wear new pearls with!"

"But Mrs. Howell," Mary Ann interjected. "What about all these? All these clothes?" she held up a long violet colored gown and a fur trimmed coat. "I wouldn't call these nothing," Mary Ann said eyeing the articles of clothing. She couldn't help but lovingly stare at the violet gown. It was positively silk smooth, probably with an enormously high stitch count, and was as glossy as new satin.

"Thurston has seen me in all those before! You can't possibly expect me to wear new pearls with an old dress!" Mrs. Howell looked scandalized by the very idea.

"Well Mrs. Howell, if you don't mind me saying, how do you even know Mr. Howell is going to get you pearls? After all, there's only so many oysters, finding a pearl in any of them is well – pearls are very rare, Mrs. Howell. And I know how Mr. Howell feels about manual labor…" she trailed off when she noticed that Mrs. Howell looked shocked by the sentiment Mary Ann expressed.

"My dear," Mrs. Howell approached the younger woman. "You must understand something about Thurston Howell III. He adheres to social stature very vigorously. On our first anniversary he gave me the deed to our home in Newport, paper anniversary you know. On our fifth he gave me a beautiful mahogany king-sized bed with Egyptian cotton sheets and silk pillows." Mrs. Howell clasped her hands in fond remembrance momentarily before addressing Mary Ann's befuddled expression. "Wood Anniversary, dear," she clarified. "On our twentieth Thurston spent an absolute fortune on most beautiful china, hand crafted, centuries old. It was absolutely breathtaking." She heaved a heavy sigh, thinking about all her lost treasures. As she reminisced to herself, Mary Ann waited for her to finish. When it was clear how very distracted Mrs. Howell was, Mary Ann made a small coughing noise to bring her back.

"Terribly sorry darling," Mrs. Howell apologized. "I do so miss those things terribly sometimes," she said forlornly. "In any case, my dear, it has now been thirty years and I'm positive Thurston will do something with pearls. There is simply nothing else one can give after thirty years of marriage!" she explained as if this were quite obvious.

Mary Ann shrugged. She hadn't even been married a year, but she knew this much. The presents between her and Gilligan would be spontaneous and personal. She had no desire to follow the anniversary agenda.

"Well, would you like me to help you make a new dress?" Mary Ann finally said, knowing this was what Mrs. Howell had been hinting at the whole time.

"Oh would you?!" Mrs. Howell got to her feet excitedly and clasped her gloved hands. "Oh I have so many ideas!" She put her hands up as if forming a layout in her mind. "I was thinking perhaps an off the shoulder gown, perhaps ecru with a green trimming, or maybe blue to bring out my eyes…"

Mary Ann was often glad to help, but Mrs. Howell was ever the fickle designer. She had changed her mind on the colors several times and she continued to waffle on feather or fur. It was all Mary Ann could do to stay sane. Here she was in her hut now, on her knees and sewing up the sleeve on Mrs. Howell's dress as Mrs. Howell modeled it for her. _She seems to be having fun at least_, Mary Ann thought as she pulled her needle through the now royal purple fabric. But Mary Ann was barely paying attention to her stitching. She kept thinking about how her stomach felt, and how she highly suspected that she would be throwing up again. She was grimacing thinking about it when she accidently stuck Mrs. Howell with the needle she was holding. Mrs. Howell let out a high pitched yelping sound.

"My dear, that is the sixth time you've stuck me this sitting," said an outraged Mrs. Howell. "I'll have you know I'm not your own personal pin cushion!"

"Oh I'm sorry Mrs. Howell," Mary Ann said sadly, retracting the needle. "I can't seem to concentrate. I'm still not feeling very well," Mary Ann confessed, sighing and putting her hands in her lap in resignation.

"Oh yes dear," Mrs. Howell acknowledged. "I heard all about what happened after breakfast," she said with some finality as if wanting to end the unpleasant subject. It was quite obvious Mrs. Howell did not want to discuss vomit, as it was so very un-lady like.

"Yeah," Mary Ann nodded. "I told myself not to try and use those oysters, but I just hate to waste," Mary Ann said now examining the stitching on Mrs. Howell's sleeve. She realized how out of it she must have been because her stitches looked foreign to her. She began to pull them out and continued. "Anyway I learned my lesson," she said emphatically.

Mrs. Howell pursed her lips as in thought. "Dear," Mrs. Howell brought one finger to her mouth as if working something out. "If it were the oysters that made you – " she frowned, unsure of how to say it. "Ill," she said finally, deciding it was the best word for it. "Wouldn't it have made us dreadfully sick as well?"

This had not occurred to Mary Ann. "Well, I suppose," Mary Ann said slowly, as frightful thoughts began encroaching on her mind. _If it wasn't the oysters it could be something much more serious, couldn't it?_ Mary Ann couldn't help but think. "I hadn't thought of that," Mary Ann confessed, trying to rethread her needle with increasingly shaky hands. "Oh you don't think I could have a stomach virus or something, do you Mrs. Howell?" she said looking up at the older woman.

Mrs. Howell smiled knowingly, reaching her hands down to Mary Ann's. "Do you really want an older woman's advice?"

"Oh of course I do!" Mary Ann said, jumping up, now eye level with Mrs. Howell. "What do you think I've got?"

Mrs. Howell led her to Mary Ann's bed and patted the seat next to her. "Sit down, dear," she said. Mary Ann eyed the spot cautiously, as if Mrs. Howell was preparing her for some very bad news. She tentatively lowered herself down onto the bed, still nervously looking at her older friend as if she were a ticking time bomb.

"If you don't mind me asking," Mrs. Howell began broaching a very private topic. "Since you and Gilligan have been married, have you two…been intimate?"

"Mrs. Howell!" Mary Ann cried "What's that got to do with anything?" said the very appalled Mary Ann. Her nervousness dissipated instantly and was now replaced with utter mortification.

"Well do pardon me for asking, dear," Mrs. Howell said apologetically. "I only brought it up because, well…I thought it was obvious," she smiled, hoping Mary Ann would understand.

"Obvious? I don't understand," Mary Ann said trying to piece together Mrs. Howell's cryptic words.

"Well it's just for the past several days you seem positively alight, if I may so. Simply radiant darling, if you take my meaning."

"No, I'm afraid I don't," Mary Ann said truthfully. She tried to come up with a logical explanation for her vomiting, love making and radiance being referenced like this.

"Well darling, if I must spell it out for you," Mrs. Howell seemed want to avoid bluntness whenever she could. It was so horribly unsophisticated in her opinion. "Have you ever considered you may be," she glanced around as if she thought someone was listening. "Enceinte?" she suggested quietly so as any passersby would be unable to hear.

"Enceinte?" Mary Ann repeated. "Doesn't that mean – " she finally understood. She sat upwards upon her revelation with an involuntary 'oh!'. Mrs. Howell thought she was pregnant!

"Mrs. Howell!" Mary Ann said in a hushed voice. "That's…that's impossible!" she sputtered out.

"Don't tell me!" Mrs. Howell said incredulously. "I know Gilligan's a shy boy, but you must have tried at least once?"

"Yes we have, as a matter of fact," Mary Ann snapped. She hadn't meant to say that, but it wasn't like she wanted to Mrs. Howell to think she had a sexless marriage. Of course, she wasn't sure she exactly wanted Mrs. Howell thinking about her sex life at all, but that ship had already sailed.

"Well then what's the problem?" Mrs. Howell said congenially. The very prim and proper lady seemed to be oddly comfortable discussing sex, which was a little unsettling to Mary Ann. She had absolutely no interest in knowing what Mr. Howell was like in bed.

"There is no problem," Mary Ann said as she detached the sleeve from the dress for better access. "It's just that I can't be pregnant," she said plainly.

"Why ever not?" Mrs. Howell pursued further.

"Because," Mary Ann said, now focusing very hard on stitching up Mrs. Howell's sleeve. "Because!" her voice got a little high, almost cracking. "Because I am only twenty four years old, and – and – and we…we haven't even done it that much," Mary Ann said honestly. She pulled her needle through the fabric, with a slight frown now gracing her face. "At least not as much as Ginger and the Professor," she noted sourly.

"Well it only takes once, my dear!" Mrs. Howell waved her handkerchief as if this were really no big deal. "And don't worry about Gilligan, sweetheart. He'll come around. You should have seen when Thurston and I first got married – "

"Mrs. Howell please!" Mary Ann interrupted. "What goes on in our bedroom is our business. And besides, there's absolutely nothing wrong with it!" she said slightly hysterically.

"Of course there's not dear," Mrs. Howell said in a baby-like voice, offering a comforting pat on Mary Ann's cheek. Mary Ann bit her lip. Granted she hadn't been feeling so great this morning, but she was beginning to feel worse with each passing moment. Mostly because her marriage was being held to Howell scrutiny, a fact with which she was most uncomfortable. She didn't really believe she was pregnant. After all, like she had said, she and Gilligan were only intimate on rare occasion, and even when they did, Gilligan agreed begrudgingly.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Howell, I'll have to finish this later," she said thrusting the sleeve into the older woman's hand and rising. "I don't feel very well," she said stiffly and began to walk towards the door.

"Oh Mary Ann," Mrs. Howell said gracefully rising to her feet. "Please do not misconstrue me, dear. If this is about your 'little problem' you must know that I only speak from experience. I have seen so many young heirs and heiresses in my day. I almost have a sixth sense about them dear. Most women do!"

Mary Ann turned to face her. "I assure you I have no little problem!" Mary Ann insisted.

"Well perhaps not, but if you notice you're unusually tired, or perhaps having terrible backaches it may be worth considering," Mrs. Howell suggested.

"I'm sure it won't come to that," Mary Ann said with the utmost certainty. She strolled out of her hut, leaving Mrs. Howell with half a dress on, bewildered at what she could have possibly said.

Mary Ann had never experienced mood swings much, but she noticed she felt an enormous amount of resentment for Mrs. Howell. She couldn't help but wonder where she got the nerve criticizing Mary Ann's…bedroom habits. And all that nonsense about pregnancy – well! It was just too much.

Mary Ann wasn't sure where she was going, but she needed to clear her head. She had only walked a couple of minutes before she was hit by a wave of fatigue and had to stop. She leaned up against the nearest tree to catch her breath.

"Having a baby!" Mary Ann huffed between breaths. "Of all the silly – " she couldn't even find the words. That or she was completely out of breath. _Maybe I should take a nap_, Mary Ann considered looking around at the leafy ambiance. She had taken a nap nearby just the other day after being completely exhausted by her daily chores. Suddenly she heard Mrs. Howell's voice, _"if you notice you're unusually tired"_ echo in her head. _Oh my, _a small voice in the back of her head said. _Two naps in one week? Wiped out just from walking a few paces? Sounds like unusual exhaustion to me. _A more sensible voice countered this one. _That's ridiculous, _Mary Ann convinced herself. _I'm not unusually tired. I'm sick and I was just walking. Of course I'm tired, _she reasoned.

Mary Ann slid down the trunk of the tree and sat in the sand. _Oh this whole thing is absurd! I couldn't be pregnant. After all I wouldn't have had my – _and she stopped in mid thought reminded about the last time she had had her monthly visitor. It had been awhile. At least six weeks, but she had always been a little irregular, and surely her diet of fruit and fish exclusively must have had some effect on it. _No, no that doesn't mean a thin_g, she conceded_. _Mary Ann let out a long sigh. _What a day. And it's barely noon, _she lamented.

She eyed a few wild berry bushes nearby and realized how hungry she was. After all her stomach had churned up all her breakfast so it was now completely empty. Mary Ann let out a pitiful sound. She had been so happy at breakfast too. She helped herself to the turtle eggs twice, the coconut milk three times and extra oysters as well. She normally didn't eat so much but – _Oh god! _Mary Ann was suddenly struck with how much she had been eating lately. Almost as if for two…

Mary Ann leapt up from her spot on the sand and began to pace. She was now holding her stomach with one hand, the first time even considering something besides food could be inside. She tried to be rational, but her thoughts were racing out of control. She didn't know what to do. _I should see the Professor,_ Mary Ann tried to be reasonable. _He'll be able to tell me this is all nonsense. _Without a moment to lose, Mary Ann was speeding off to find the only person she could think of who could confirm or refute her suspicion.

"Oh Professor!!!" Mary Ann knocked feverishly on the Professor's door, while simultaneously gripping her stomach as though she trying stop blood from leaking out of a gun wound. Even though Mary Ann had dismissed Mrs. Howell's statement as ridiculous, she couldn't help but be slightly nervous. After all, she and Gilligan had been married for six months, and in that time, she had managed to get him to make love thirteen times (She knew this because she had indeed counted each time. Not only that but, she also wrote in a diary about every time they were intimate as she secretly hoped it might one day be published as a romance novel. After speaking to Ginger about her sex life, Mary Ann realized to the average person, her and Gilligan's love making probably sounded very pedestrian. In her defense though, they were both very new to it). She now knew she was showing signs and she couldn't help but think she wasn't ready to be a mother yet. Yes, despite Mary Ann's certainty in Mrs. Howell's presence, she was beginning to doubt herself.

The Professor, who was quietly writing at his desk, looked up from his parchment at the sound Mary Ann's worried shouts. "Mary Ann?" he questioned, turning back in his chair.

"Oh yes it's me," she called somewhat desperately through his door. "Can I please come in? I need your – " Mary Ann realized the gravity of her predicament. She was going ask the Professor if he could tell if she was pregnant. And she suddenly became embarrassed. She realized while it was perfectly natural to make love with her husband, she exactly want to bring in to anyone's attention, especially the Professor. She could barely stand talking about it with another woman, let alone a man! Being the gender difference and status of their friendship, Mary Ann couldn't help but feel as the whole situation might be awkward.

Mary Ann bit her lip. She trusted the Professor. And besides, if she was pregnant, he and everyone else on the island would find out eventually. She leaned against the door and started again, "I need some help…if you're not busy," she added, her nervousness getting the better of her.

"Not at all," came his voice. "Please come in." Mary Ann hesitantly swung the door aside to find the Professor at his desk with what looked to be dozens of paper packed with his small cramped handwriting. He turned around to her and smiled, "What can I do for you?" he said as he rested his forearms on the back of his chair.

Mary Ann eyed the still open door, and swiftly shut it before she began. "Well," she began as he turned back towards him. He was now shuffling some papers as though he were putting them in some order. "Am I interrupting something? I can come back later," she said, knowing full well her politeness and cold feet were trying to stop her from getting the truth.

"Oh no," the Professor laughed as he put the stack down. "No, I'm just putting the final touches on a book I'm writing."

"Oh you're writing a book!" Mary Ann said brightly, a little hopeful that her problem might be forgotten if she pursued another topic. "What is it about?" she said approaching the desk trying to make out some of the writing, though it was so small it all looked like scribbles from her standpoint.

At this question, the Professor squirmed a little, and looked nervously at the door as though someone might be waiting there. "Well, I'll tell you, if you can promise to keep it a secret." This caught Mary Ann's attention instantly, and she nodded fiercely as she began to lower herself into a chair nearby. "Especially from Ginger," he added. Mary Ann's eye brow lifted and she leaned in with keen interest.

"Why would you keep this from her? She is your wife."

The Professor looked over at the pages and picked one up. He stared at the page for a moment, a faint smile on his lips. "Because it's about her," he said handing Mary Ann the page.

In large, looping script were a few simple words. "Learning Love: A Chemistry Professor's Lesson in Chemistry. By Professor Roy Hinkley Jr."

"Oh my!" Mary Ann said clutching the page to her heart. "This is so romantic," she sighed. "When did you – that is how are you - I mean what inspired you to do this?"

"She did," he said smiling. "See Mary Ann, I have for," he paused to think about it for a moment. "Well, as long as I can remember been very logical and practical. I had no idea how to be any other way. But the day I met Ginger, the day of our shipwreck was a turning point in my life. For years I have been a believer in attraction being the primary glue that holds together a marriage or any romantic relationship for that matter. I had never been in love, so I had no idea what it was. I couldn't explain it so I didn't want anything to do with it. I was so blissfully ignorant to it, I never even imagined it would come find me. And it has! By god it really has! It's quite an epiphany for me, Mary Ann. I have never felt like I do when I'm with her. I know it's more than attraction, because I would do anything for her. I would put her happiness before my own. Because of her, I'm feeling things I didn't even know were possible." He looked away for a moment as if a little embarrassed about speaking these things to another person.

"Perhaps this all seems very foolish but I truly believe she broadened my perspective and made me a better person. More capable of feeling and sentiment. Love is the greatest thing man can ever know and I happen think that there are a lot of people, especially in my field, that would grow from really understanding it. Of course love can't be realized by just reading a book, but I sincerely hope seeing my transformation with broaden others minds. There are too many who resent love and brand it as lust as I once did. That's no kind of life."

"Oh that's wonderful," Mary Ann said, suddenly starry eyed. She knew the Professor cared deeply for Ginger, but she never could have possibly imagined this. "What were you working on just now, anyway?" she said, interest sparked.

"I was working on a chapter about how I first discovered I loved her. Actually, I made reference to you and Gilligan several times and your blossoming romance." Mary Ann's leaned in closer to see if she could spot her own name on any of the pages.

"Oh really? Can I please read it?" The Professor smiled and snatched the title page back from her.

"When it's finished ok? For now," he put the title page aside. He then turned her and put his hands in his lap. "Let's talk about you, shall we? What did you want?"

Mary Ann faltered. She was taken off guard, especially since he got her all drunk on the idea of love. "Um well," she fidgeted in her seat as she searched for the words. "I had a bit of an upset stomach this morning."

"Oh yes, I heard about that. Not to worry. The best thing for an upset stomach is to lie down. If you want I am quiet proficient in home remedies, I can make an herbal drink that might decrease your abdominal discomfort."

"Oh no Professor," Mary Ann said holding out her hand to stop him. "It's not that, see – I was just with Mrs. Howell and she remarked how I was…radiant." The Professor nodded and waited for her to continue. Mary Ann had hoped this would be enough to clue him in, however, he just waited patiently for her to finish her story. "She said that I looked different," Mary Ann tried being subtle again.

"I'm afraid I don't understand Mary Ann. What has this got to do with your vomiting?" he questioned.

"She said that she thought perhaps, that maybe, I might be um…" she tried every expression she could think of in her head. Expecting? With child? In a family way? Instead she decided to opt for hand gestures. She folded one arm on top of the other and rocked her arms as she was rocking an invisible infant. She raised her eyebrows in query if the message was clear. It was; the Professor sat back with a startled 'oh!'

"I was hoping, maybe you of all of us would able to tell the best." Mary Ann clasped her hands, pleading with her eyes. The Professor furrowed his brow.

"Well to be honest Mary Ann, I'm not terribly familiar with obstetrics. My field of practice is botany and chemistry. I have very minor medical training."

"Oh please," Mary Ann begged. "Can't you do something?"

"Well, I know an infant has a fetal heartbeat at about 6 weeks. If you're that far along, I should be able to hear it on my stethoscope. We could give that a try." Mary Ann nodded eagerly. "All right," he said. "Hop up on the bed," he instructed.

Mary Ann took a seat on the edge of his bed as he stood up and pushed his chair out. He walked over to a large cabinet made from woven palm fronds and bamboo poles. He reached inside and retrieved the giant stethoscope crafted from island supplies including the ever practical coconut. He put in the ear pieces and put the half of a coconut shell against her flat stomach and listened intently. He raised his eyebrows and moved the coconut a little to left and listened again. He moved the shell back and forth a few more times before he finally seemed to have reached a conclusion.

"Hmm," he said as he removed his ear pieced and left the instrument hang around his neck.

"What?" Mary Ann said eagerly. "Did you hear anything?" She watched him with great intensity, teetering on the edge of the bed.

"Indeed I did," he said, taking the hand crafted stethoscope off his neck. He put it aside and then turned back to her. He smiled warmly. "It looks like you and Gilligan are going to be parents."

…

Mary Ann could only faintly remember walking back to her hut. She was so light, for all she knew, she could have been floating. She gently palmed her stomach and found herself lost in thought. She was going to be a mother. Her nervousness seemed to vanish instantly as she imagined herself with that small pink or blue bundle. She felt a surge of emotion as she envisioned her tiny baby, waving its chubby fist at her and staring up with Gilligan's eyes and her mouth. She imagined a little boy with a mop of black hair, fishing with Gilligan, wearing his cap. Her mind drifted to a little girl in blue gingham, sewing next to her. She imagined Christmas, lifting the infant to touch a starfish that topped off the tropical tree, and opening his first present. She began to sway on the spot, thinking of the thing inside her that would grow into her child. Her and Gilligan's baby.

She stopped short. Gilligan didn't know about this. _How am I going to tell him?_ She thought instantly. She wanted it to be special. She wanted it to be private. She wanted it to be a moment he would remember for the rest of his life. She bit her lip. _I have so much planning to do_, she thought as scampered off to her hut.

However, Mary Ann's planning would have to wait as when she got back to her hut, Mrs. Howell was still there requesting that she finish the dress. Mary Ann, apologized for being short with Mrs. Howell, but Mrs. Howell only had her anniversary on her mind and insisted Mary Ann continue with the dress. Mary Ann found herself pinning clothes and sewing up seams for several hours, unable to concentrate on her own dilemma. Right after that Ginger approached her with dinner plans. She spent the afternoon laboring over a special dinner that she had hoped would be a precursor to the most important discussion she'd ever have. However, the fatigued first mate was asleep before Mary Ann even got back to their hut. Mary Ann resigned for the day, and slipped quietly into her night clothes.

Mary Ann was in now bed, but sleep far from her mind. All she could think about was her baby, and telling her husband about it. Mary Ann kept finding her mind drifting back to her home in Kansas where, in Mary Ann's youth she had a small thirteen inch television that had poor reception and was missing the channel up button. On it, she and the rest of her farming family used to sit down and watch 'I Love Lucy' back in its hay day. Mary Ann was reminded of the episode where Lucy tried to tell Ricky about their baby, and between his hunger and busy schedule she almost didn't get a chance to. She didn't want this to happen with Gilligan. She had to be like Lucy, creative.

She sighed. In the time it took her to be creative her stomach would probably be showing already. She had to get it done, even if ambiance and romance were not part of the equation. She propped herself up and looked over at Gilligan, who was lying on his back, one leg on top of the covers and his head turned towards her. She gently nudged her sleeping husband but he let out a muffled moan and rolled over with his back to her. Mary Ann frowned. She just couldn't wait anymore.

"Gilligan," she whispered as she shook his arm a little.

"Idunwantanycoconutcreampie," he said sleepily as he rolled onto his stomach. Mary Ann was about to tap him again when he let out a loud snore, nearly startling her. She realized she was going to have to be more persistent.

"Gilligan," Mary Ann repeated, shaking him harder. "Gilligan, wake up," she said a little louder.

"Huh?" his sleepy voice drifted over to her as he looked over his shoulder at Mary Ann. "Mary Ann?" he furrowed his eyebrows at her. His eyes scanned the room momentarily to see if there was any immediate danger. When he saw none he looked back at her, confused.

"Gilligan, I need to talk to you," she said looking deeply into his eyes which were illuminated by a sliver of moonlight that had leaked in through the window.

A faint smile crossed Gilligan's lips. "We can talk tomorrow, all you want Mary Ann," he said quickly lowering himself back down onto his pillow and settling in again. "Good night," he murmured.

"Gilligan!" Mary Ann said sternly, grabbing his arm and pulling at him. "I need to talk to you now."

Gilligan yawned widely. "Mary Ann, I'm so tired. Mr. Howell said I have to get up bright and early tomorrow to find more pearls for Mrs. Howell."

"I know you are Gilligan," Mary Ann said compassionately. "But this will only take a few minutes."

"How about I promise to talk to you all day tomorrow, if you just let me sleep now, huh? I'll talk to you while I look for pearls and fish and get water and eat and everything ok?" he looked at her pathetically.

"No Gilligan, we need to talk now. It's serious," she said, pushing away her sheets and jumping out of their bed.

"Won't it still be serious in the morning?" he said rubbing his eyes and swinging his legs over the bed. Mary Ann ignored this, and instead walked around to help him out of bed. She grabbed his arms and pulled him up. However, the poor man was so sleep deprived that he began to collapse once Mary Ann let him go.

"Oh Gilligan!" Mary Ann said miserably. "Can't you try to stay awake for a minute?"

"I'm trying, Mary Ann," his sleepy voice said, but his eyes were closed.

"Come on, let's go for a walk," Mary Ann said grabbing his hand.

"Mary Ann I thought you said this was only going to take a minute!" Gilligan protested.

"It will if you just cooperate," Mary Ann said. "Gilligan please," Mary Ann begged.

Gilligan looked at her through his half closed eyes and a shadow of a smile crossed his features. "Okay Mary Ann, I'll try."

She smiled at him and quickly leaned up to give him a quick peck on the lips. She then took his hand in hers and began to lead him outside. When they stepped into the moon light, Mary Ann involuntarily gasped. She was overwhelmed at how beautiful the moon looked when she got outside. The silver rays illuminated everything in sight, giving them the appearance that they were glowing. Fireflies dotted the jungle making it look almost enchanted. She couldn't have asked for a more perfect atmosphere to reveal Gilligan's fatherhood in. "Oh Gilligan, isn't it breathtaking?" Mary Ann sighed, putting her other hand that was not in his grasp over her heart.

Gilligan remained unenthused. "Huh?" he mumbled. "Oh yeah, real pretty," he said half heartedly. Mary Ann cocked an eyebrow at him, slightly annoyed at his indifference to this pristine evening.

"Come on," Mary Ann said pulling on his hand again. "Let's sit in the clearing," she said almost dragging him over to it.

"Okay," Gilligan said. "Can we lie down when we get there?" His words slurred together, giving him a slightly intoxicated like sound.

"Oh I suppose," Mary Ann said rolling her eyes. She stopped abruptly in the clearing causing the sleep derived Gilligan to stumble to try and stop in time. He didn't. He was only vaguely aware he was now lying face down in sand. He could hardly concern himself with it though, he felt absolutely drained.

"Oh Gilligan," Mary Ann sighed, getting to her knees. "What am I going to do with you?" she said shaking her head a little and smiling.

"Whatever you want, Mary Ann," he said, but it was muffled because his face was still in the sand. He had been too tired to even lift his head. Mary Ann scooted herself near his head and gently gave his shoulder a push so he lie flat on his back. She then took his head in her hands and gingerly laid his head on her lap. As she leaned up against a nearby tree, she traced his face with her finger.

"Gilligan," Mary Ann begun. "I know it was a bit selfish of me to drag you out of bed like this, but there's something that's been on my mind all day. Before I say anything, I just want to let you know how much I love you, Gilligan."

"I love you too, Mary Ann," Gilligan said, still tired looking but incredibly genuine in his sentiment. "Is that what you came out here to tell me Mary Ann?" he added.

"No, no, not that," she said. "It's just, I've always felt I was so very blessed the day I got on the Minnow, because it led me to you. And today I believe I am ever more blessed than I could have possibly imagined." She paused, and took in the surroundings before continuing. "And I want you to know whatever happens, nothing will ever change how I feel about you. Anything that happens to us will only strengthen whatever we have Gilligan." She remained silent a moment, as a small boy popped into her head again with a butterfly net and a white cap. "Gilligan," she said. "We're going to have a baby."

Mary Ann expected some kind of reaction, and was more startled that there was none. She peered down at her husband to find that his breathing was rhythmic and his eyes closed. "Gilligan?" she shook his shoulder. "Gilligan I'm trying to tell you we're having a baby. I'm pregnant!" At this sound Gilligan snored loudly and rolled over on her lap.

Mary Ann sighed. She stood up allowing his head to hit the sand. She had hoped it would wake him up, but he didn't even stir. When he didn't she threw her hands up in frustration and stormed back to her hut, both angry and depressed. She had so wanted to tell him while the night was the way it was. Back in bed she couldn't help but think she was right where she had started.

…

Gilligan rolled over in his sleep. He was somewhat awake though because he was thinking about how hard his mattress was tonight. He shifted uncomfortably in the sand. He rolled over once more accidentally hitting up against a nearby coconut tree. He hardly noticed though because the sand beneath him was taking a toll on his back. It wasn't until the coconut fell loose from its bunch that he even knew a tree was there.

"Ow!" Gilligan screeched as a heavy coconut hit him square in the gut. His eyes flew open and he saw himself looking up at the clear blue sky.

"That's funny," Gilligan commented. "I don't remember having a hole in our roof." He sat up and found a coconut lying on his stomach. "Where did this come from?" he said picking up and examining the specimen. He shrugged and tossed the coconut over his shoulder as he continued to inspect is surroundings. He looked around and seemed to notice a bigger problem than having a coconut on his lap.

"What am I doing outside?" he said to no one in particular. He was startled when he was answered.

"I was just about to ask the same question," a voice said behind him. Gilligan jumped at the sound of the voice and quickly got to his feet. He turned around to find an annoyed Skipper holding a coconut that bore striking resemblance to the one he had just thrown.

"I believe this belongs to you," The Skipper said extending the coconut towards the startled young man.

Gilligan grinned sheepishly. "Sorry Skipper," he took the coconut out of the Skipper's hand.

"Oh that's all right, Gilligan," but he still couldn't help but roll his eyes. Every time the boy was around, the Skipper wound up with a bump on his head. "What are you doing out here this early in the morning, anyway?" the Skipper addressed both the questions on both their minds.

"Gee, I don't know Skipper," Gilligan scratched his head. How had he got out here? "I remember something last night but – " he stopped to try and think what it was he actually remembered. "Something about a pretty night," he tried piecing together. "Oh!" he said suddenly. "That's right! Mary Ann woke me up to talk about somethin' real, real important, and she took me out here to tell me."

"Well, what did she say Gilligan?" said the curious Skipper.

"I don't remember!" Gilligan realized. "Something about being blessed and- and something else," he tried lamely.

"Oh Gilligan!" The Skipper took off his captain's hat to swat the younger man. "Why would Mary Ann drag you out in the middle of the night to tell you something silly like that?"

"I don't know Skipper. She was acting real funny yesterday. Like she was different or something, you know?"

"Now that you mention it Gilligan, Mary Ann does seem to be different. Could she be losing weight?" The Skipper suggested.

"Are you kidding?" said an outraged Gilligan. "Just yesterday she took the last piece of coconut cream pie. And the day before that she ate her lobster and the lobster Ginger couldn't finish and she was still picking at mine. With the way she's been eating lately, I'm surprised she's not as big as you."

The Skipper face turned beet red. "Gilligan I ought to – " he took a haphazard swing at Gilligan but missed by a mile as the young man quickly ducked out of the way. "Oh never mind that," he said, trying to put Gilligan's last comment out of his mind. "What could be wrong with Mary Ann?"

"I don't know, but I'm beginning to worry. She kept touching her stomach all day. Maybe she's still sick or something." Gilligan was now looking at the ground, obviously troubled.

"Kept touching her stomach? Are you sure Gilligan?" the Skipper questioned. "I should know what my own wife does, shouldn't I?"

"Yes well," the Skipper said a little humbled. He was beginning to suspect he knew exactly what was going on with Mary Ann.

As if on cue Mary Ann could be seen approaching the two sailors, with a slight bounce in her step. "Hello Skipper!" she greeted him. "Hello dear," she said giving Gilligan a peck on the cheek. Gilligan cast the Skipper a suspicious glance.

"Hey Mary Ann," he said slowly. "You seem…happy."

"Oh that's because I am, Gilligan. I have the most wonderful news!" she said swinging her arms a little as she said so.

"So you're not mad at me for last night?" He couldn't believe it. She had been trying so hard to keep him awake and he fell asleep on her.

"I should say not!" Mary Ann said. "It was my own fault for waking you up when you so clearly needed your sleep," she said putting her hands on the sides of his face. "Besides, I can't stay mad at you," she cooed, putting her index finger on the point of his nose. "Skipper," she turned to address the older man. "Would you mind giving us a moment?" she asked sweetly.

"Will do Mary Ann," the Skipper winked at the two. "Remember Gilligan, you've got chores to do," he reminded before taking off. "Aye aye, sir," Gilligan responded dutifully. "Gilligan," Mary Ann said bringing his attention back to her. "There's something I've been trying to tell you. Something important."

"I know, you told me all that last night," he relayed.

"Yes I know. But I wasn't sure if you were really paying attention then," Mary Ann said seriously. Gilligan averted his eyes, guilt rising in his stomach. "Anyway, Gilligan. I know we've never talked about this, but I this news - well I think it is going to make all our dreams come true. Gilligan," she took his hands in hers. "I'm - "

"Gilligan, my boy!" Mr. Howell interrupted. Mary Ann frowned. _Oh what now?!_ She fumed silently.

"Morning Mr. Howell," Gilligan said cheerfully.

"What are you doing here?" Mr. Howell said incredulously. "You should be down by the bay, looking for rare gems of the sea! I won't tolerate this lollygagging," raged the wealthier man.

"Mr. Howell," Mary Ann tried to say. "Mr. Howell, I was just about to tell Gilligan something very important – "

"Nothing that can't wait for later, I'm sure," Mr. Howell cut her off.

"But Mr. Howell – " Mary Ann said hysterically.

"Now come, come dear. You don't want your husband to be the island bum, now do you?" Mary Ann tried to get a word out but Mr. Howell would not hear of it. "Now don't you worry your pretty head about him. I'll take good care of him," he said putting arm around Gilligan's shoulders and squeezing tightly.

"Come now boy. Those pearls won't find themselves." He prodded Gilligan in the stomach with his cane. "Well come on!" he urged, poking a little harder.

"Sorry Mary Ann," Gilligan looked at her apologetically, just before he vanished into the jungle growth. "It's all right Gilligan," Mary Ann said quietly to herself. "It's all right."

…

Mary Ann swung her legs back and forth over side of the bed normally shared by Ginger and the Professor. After Gilligan had left she decided to return to the Professor's so she could discuss her pregnancy a bit more. She didn't know anything about it and she wanted to be prepared as possible. The Professor seemed to think this also, because he said he had been thinking about checking up on her. She felt positively giddy, despite the failed attempt at telling Gilligan he was going to be a father. She was so happy she wasn't really even worried about it, though she knew of course, eventually the high would wear off and it would be back to the drawing board. For now though it was just her and her baby – and the Professor. It was odd that the two should share a secret together, but Mary Ann didn't want anyone else to know until she had told her husband. Then, the two could break the news to the others, hand in hand, side by side as they were bombarded by questions.

The Professor had promised not to tell Ginger, though, he said to Mary Ann, she seemed to be able to tell he had a secret. "She has an incredible knack for knowing when I'm keeping something to myself. And you know how Ginger is when she's on the prowl for information," the Professor said to her. He laughed, knowing full well, that since their marriage, Ginger had not tried to seduce anyone but himself.

"I know. But keeping a secret can be fun too, right?" Mary Ann said trying to lighten the mood.

It was at that point in their discussion that Ginger happened to seek out her husband for a little mid afternoon romance. He had seemed tense for the last few days and she suspected whatever it was he was keeping from her. Perhaps, in his ever statistical mind he had found rescue was impossible or perhaps something even more troubling. Whatever it was, she wanted to soothe his troubled mind with kisses and sweet nothings. She glided over to the hut she shared with him, to freshen up and hopefully create some ambiance when she heard the sound of his voice drift over through a crack in their door.

"I hate keeping secrets Mary Ann," she heard him say. _I knew it_, was her first thought. Her interest peaked, she gently placed her hands on the door and leaned in closer. "Especially from Ginger," he added.

"I know, I know," Mary Ann's voice sounded. "But you just can't tell her yet. Not until I'm ready." Ginger leaned back a little and bit her lip. She wasn't so sure she wanted to hear anymore of this conversation.

"Well that goes double for you," the Professor said. "I don't want anyone else knowing what I'm writing about."

"Your secret's safe with me," Mary Ann assured. Ginger gawked at the door, even though she couldn't see the people on the other side. She could not believe what she was hearing. How could he tell Mary Ann was his book and not tell her! "I still can't believe it though," Mary Ann continued. "It's so romantic. I had no idea you could write like that."

Ginger was positively furious at hearing this. _Findings in chemistry my foot!_ she thought ruefully. _I have half a mind to go in there and tear it to shreds_, she couldn't help but think.

"I'm glad you think so. It's my first try with anything remotely – well you know," he said laughing.

"Yes, I know. And I can't believe you included me!" said a delighted Mary Ann. Ginger nearly did a double take. _Mary Ann is in a romantic book my husband wrote?_

"Well of course. You're a model of a young woman in love. It wouldn't be a complete story without yours, especially with this recent development." He must have made a hand gesture Ginger couldn't see, but it hardly interested her any. A lot may have cleared up though if she had seen him reference her stomach though. However, all she could think about was how he was seemingly writing about Mary Ann's alleged love story. Probably Mary Ann and his love story. After all why should he write about her relationship with another man? Ginger tried to remind herself not to jump to conclusions, but it was becoming more and more difficult not to do so.

"What about Gilligan?" the Professor interrupted Ginger's speeding assumptions. "I guess you haven't told him yet," the Professor said in the most casual of tones.

"About the book?" Mary Ann questioned.

"No, no. About this," he clarified. Ginger didn't know what 'this' was but she could hardly help from taking a guess.

"No, no, not yet. I'm still trying to think of how to do it. It's a very delicate subject, and I want to prepare him for it," Mary Ann responded. _Oh god_, came Ginger's voice in the back of her head. She closed her eyes and prayed for him to say something that would counter what she was thinking. She hated to think this way but she couldn't help but sincerely wish that Mary Ann had some disease that she was hesitant to tell everyone about.

"That's true. I'm sure it's going to come as quite a shock," the Professor said. "But in time he'll grow accustomed to it."

"Oh I hope so!" said Mary Ann. At this, Ginger couldn't help but think this was not about any disease.

"Don't think I haven't tried though." Mary Ann added sternly. "It's been killing me! Every time I try to tell him, something happens. It's as if the fates are against me," Mary Ann heaved a sigh.

The Professor laughed light heartedly at her. "Aside from the little problem with Gilligan, how you feeling about everything?" the Professor asked.

"Oh I feel terrific," Mary Ann said gleefully. "I've never felt so wonderful in my life actually. I mean I was a little nervous at first. I felt like things were going so fast and I might not be ready for all this, but as soon as I came and saw you the other day I felt like I was on top of the world."

Ginger let out a terrified gasp. She wasn't sure if she was breathing at this point. Ginger had had her fair share of heartbreak over the years, but this was more than she could take. She put a hand against the door to steady herself.

"I'm happy to hear it." Ginger noted how genuine he sounded about it. "Oh!" he said suddenly, catching the listener at the door off guard. Ginger prayed for a miracle. One last moment for him to say something that would completely negate the connotation of the conversation she had just witnessed.

"I have a wonderful surprise for you Mary Ann," Ginger heard the Professor say. If she had been inside, she would have seen he had handed her a piece of paper that had many sketches of the basinet the Professor planned to build for her newborn. She would have known the joyful squeak that came from Mary Ann wasn't over a love poem, or a flower or even a piece of jewelry. She would have known that when she peaked through the crack in the door that Mary Ann leaping off of their bed hadn't meant she had just been lying in it. She would have known that the hug that followed wasn't a romantic one. But unfortunately for Ginger, she didn't know any of this. And for her, it was the sound of the death knell. Her husband didn't love her. After only six months, he wanted someone else.

...

It had been almost three days since Mary Ann had discovered she was pregnant and still her husband did not know. She should have been discouraged by the fact she could not get him to focus for a few minutes, but if anything the pursuits made her more fervent. She sat at the breakfast table with the others that morning, fidgeting as she barely touched her turtle eggs and crab. Gilligan, on the other hand, sat next to her as he happily shoveled the meal she had prepared into his mouth. He was oblivious to her tension, all though he was the only one.

"Are feeling all right, dear?" Mrs. Howell finally addressed everyone's thoughts. "You look a bit pale child. Perhaps it's the tropical heat," she suggested as she waved a gloved hand towards her own face. "I do believe I've been suffering as well."

"Lovey's worn herself out again, you know." Mr. Howell said jovially. "Those furs weigh a ton!" He and Mrs. Howell shared a good natured laugh, though the others merely chuckled or smiled half heartedly at his humor.

"By god, you all seem to have some sort of bug," Mr. Howell said upon noticing their less than enthusiastic laughter. "I do hope it's not gold fever!" This time most of the others merely grimaced and Mr. Howell seemed to finally understand something serious was going on. He didn't know, of course, Mary Ann was pregnant, and that the Professor was under pressure to keep her secret and of course that Ginger now suspected them of having an affair and this all seemed to manifest itself into a malaise hanging over the table.

"I'm fine, Mrs. Howell," Mary Ann said trying to break the tension. She looked sideways at Gilligan. She had to do something now. "In fact Gilligan and I were just going for a walk," she said, standing up and rising from the table. "Come on Gilligan," she said grabbing his arm.

The young man looked up at hearing his name and noticed his wife was pulling at his arm. "Where are we going?" he said, perplexed.

"For a walk Gilligan," she said plainly, tugging on his arm again.

"But I haven't finished my breakfast," he countered, remaining seated and looking up at her quizzically. Mary Ann frowned.

"You can finish it later," she said, becoming a little more aggressive in tone. She would not be deterred this time. She was going to tell him.

"We can go for a walk later too, right?" said the good natured Gilligan who turned back towards his food. He was about to put some crab into his mouth when Mary Ann's hand shot out and covered his own. She gave him a meaningful look as she lowered the fork to the table. At this point the other castaways exchanged nervous glances. It was only Professor who noted to himself though how unpredictable pregnant woman could be.

"Gilligan, I would really prefer to go on a walk now," she said it slowly, emphasizing every word, hoping he would understand the gravity of subject hand. He didn't.

"What's the big deal?" he said getting to his feet. "The jungle will still be there if I finish breakfast. Besides it'll get cold if I leave now," he said giving her a Bambi-like stare. He thought this was just Mary Ann's way of getting him alone so they could fool around, and Gilligan was well trained in holding Mary Ann off until they were truly alone. He found giving her an innocent look always made her soften and instantaneously become more patient. Not this time though.

"Gilligan," she said sternly, though not angrily. She hesitated before lowering her voice, "there is something very important I want to discuss with you." She allowed her voice to become normal volume again, "so would you please come with me?" She grabbed his wrist and began to walk away.

"What could be so serious besides rescue?" her husband said exchanging confused looks with his friends. They shrugged, signaling their ignorance to the situation as well. Gilligan furrowed his eyebrows for a moment and then a thought dawned on him.

"Are we being rescued, Mary Ann?" he said eagerly, bouncing ever so slightly on the balls of his feet. "Oh I can't wait, I can't wait!" he said grabbing a hold of Mary Ann's shoulders causing her to bob up and down as well. "You're gonna meet Skinny Mulligan, and all the guys back home and mom and pop and – "

Mary Ann grimaced, noticing how he was getting away from her again. "Gilligan!" she interrupted.

"Yeah?" he beamed at her.

"Gilligan," she said, steadily losing her patience. She took one hand of his hands, still on her shoulder, and took it in her own. "We're not being rescued. It's something else." Gilligan frowned, and looked a little bit annoyed.

"Well then, what's so important that can't wait 'til after breakfast? I'm real, real hungry," he made like he was going to sit down again, when Mary Ann yanked his wrist.

"Gilligan!" she reprimanded. "I am your wife!" she was near to tears now. "And I have something very important to talk to you about. Something that will affect our marriage!"

Gilligan still could not wrap his mind around what could be so important. "Okay we'll talk," he said, a little taken back. He hung his head a little and clasped his hands together. "What do you want to say?" Mary Ann clenched her fists.

"Gilligan!!" she wailed. "I said it was private!!"

"Why's it so private? I mean it's not like you're having a baby or anything silly like that," he said, without realizing the impact of the words. Mary Ann looked hurt all of a sudden and Gilligan didn't know why. She bit her lip to hold back tears, but he could see them welling up anyway.

"What, I don't understand," he said scratching his head. Mary Ann stamped one foot in the sand before completely losing it.

"Oh Gilligan!" she reached breaking point. "I _am_ having a baby!!" she cried.

As chaos erupted at the table, a shell shocked Gilligan stood in the middle of all the commotion trying to process what Mary Ann said. So distraught by her plan gone awry, Mary Ann took off into the forest, already tears spilling. Gilligan stood still as his friends and fellow castaways crowded around him, with shouts and cheers. He did not hear the 'My little buddy's going to be a dad!' from the Skipper and 'How marvelous!' from Mrs. Howell, or even feel Mr. Howell try to pat him on the back and shake his hand. All he could hear was Mary Ann's voice announcing his fatherhood.

"Gilligan!" the Professor said trying to snap him out of his trance. "Gilligan, are you all right?" he said shaking him roughly by the arm.

"Little buddy," the Skipper, said concerned. "Speak to me!"

Gilligan's head swiveled over towards his captain, slowly as though he had only just noticed him. "It's really not so serious," he said slowly, as though he wasn't really all there.

"Not at all!" The Skipper said excitedly. "You're going to be a father!" The Skipper placed a congratulatory slap on the back on his young first mate only to send in sprawling into the sand, completely out cold.

"He'll come around," the Professor reasoned, as the Skipper lifted the limp form of the young soon-to-be father. The Skipper, looked down at his limp best friend and then exchanged a nervous glance with the man next to him.

"I just hope Mary Ann will too."

To be continued…


	2. Don't Judge A Book

**Note: **Almost every situation written about is taken from the show verbatim. Took a while to compile all this lovely canon material but I hope you GP fans enjoy it as much as I did. Also I really appreciate the reviews, they really brighten my day:D

Palms' Lullaby

**Chapter Two**: Don't Judge a Book…

The Professor sat on the side of his bed, rubbing his forehead. He had spent the last few hours searching the island for the very distraught and pregnant Mary Ann. He and the other men, save Gilligan (who was still unconscious) had searched every cove, cave and cranny with no luck. He was told after awhile to go home and be with his wife, but it did not stop him from worrying about poor Mary Ann.

Ginger sat by her night table combing her hair before bed, biting her lip. The news of Mary Ann being pregnant had eased her doubts some, hoping that perhaps what she heard was about Mary Ann's fertile state. She however couldn't help but still be somewhat insecure. After all, wasn't it possible that Mary Ann meant to also tell him it wasn't his baby and was so upset she didn't get a chance to? _No,_ Ginger shook her head. That was soap opera talk. Mary Ann would never do that Gilligan. _Still,_ she turned to look at the Professor. He heaved a heavy sigh and rubbed his temple. _Anything's possible._

"Are you feeling all right, dear?" she asked, turning back to her mirror and brushing another strand of red hair. "You seem – tense," she suggested.

"Oh it's just this whole thing with Mary Ann and Gilligan," he said as he began unbuttoning his shirt. "It's got us all concerned. Poor Mary Ann, all alone in the dark and in her state too! I'm just hoping she doesn't do anything rash," he frowned.

"You're worried about her?" Ginger asked hesitantly, keeping her eyes on the mirror to avoid looking at his expression.

"Well of course I am, aren't you?" He turned to her as he pulled off of his shoes.

"Yes, yes of course. I just – I've been feeling better since Mr. Howell and Skipper are out looking for her. You did all you could for today. You've been searching for hours, you need some rest," she said keeping her voice even, though part of her wondered if his concern was more than it seemed.

"Yes I suppose that's true," he said rationally. He looked over at her and couldn't help but smile. He rose from his position and strode over to her. He positioned himself behind her and looked at their reflection in the mirror. "You have an uncanny ability to put my mind at ease, you know that?" he leaned down and kissed her cheek gently. Ginger stared at the reflection and stiffened. She wasn't sure if she should be reassured or suspicious by this gesture. He must have noticed her tense because he pulled back a little and stared at her.

"What's going on Ginger? You've been distant with me the last few days." It wasn't accusatory, just a statement. She looked at him from her seated position and decided to just come out with it. The suspense was absolutely wrecking her nerves.

"I heard you and Mary Ann talking the other day," she began slowly. "You said something about keeping secrets from me, and from Gilligan." The Professor's concerned look and he suddenly looked amused.

"Of course we did. She didn't want me to tell you about the baby, until, of course, she told him" he said genuinely.

"I know, I thought of that. But she also said something like, since she saw you, she's felt wonderful," she said as she slowly got to her feet and holding his gaze steadily. "And then I saw her hug you. She was on our bed…not wearing much. It just seemed so much like you two were – " she broke off and looked down at her feet.

"Ginger," he said astonished. "You have to know that you're the only woman for me." He said pulling her into an embrace, swaying back and forth in attempt to sooth her troubled heart. Ginger couldn't help but note he didn't exactly explain what she had seen and this made her mind race to a place it shouldn't have gone. Despite his arms being around her, she couldn't help but wonder if he thought her a mistake. Her mind wandered to all the times she had seen them together. Like when Mary Ann threw her arms around him after he refused to leave the island after Gilligan found the Eye of the Idol. He refused to budge on the grounds it was all completely idiotic and then Mary Ann had refused to go if he stayed behind. And the Professor had gotten very obstinate about Mary Ann being the most beautiful castaway when the topic was brought to the table. Ginger's brain flooded with these images, and all of sudden she was more doubtful than before she found out Mary Ann was pregnant.

Ginger, being so beautiful, was often very insecure. It would seem that a beautiful girl has nothing to worry about, and Ginger seemingly even proved this fact as she walked around so gracefully and confidently. However, every beautiful girl begins to doubt why people her like her from time to time. They worry their beauty is their only merit, and that it in time will vanish. Ginger couldn't help but think how domestic Mary Ann was and what a good wife she probably was. Mary Ann was very down to Earth and very compassionate. She couldn't see any reason, in fact, why the Professor wouldn't prefer Mary Ann as Mary Ann was also naturally good looking. And being that he was so logical and pragmatic, he must have realized how much more efficient Mary Ann would be as a partner. Ginger began to feel dread crawling all over her like an eight-legged spider. The Professor was the love of her life and she couldn't bear losing him now.

Still in her husband's embrace, Ginger felt like she was slipping away. He must have noticed she wasn't responding because he finally spoke.

"I thought you were more sensible than that," he said pulling back. He leaned back a little to try and get her to look up at him. She raised her head a bit and saw him staring intently at her. "I love you, Ginger."

He kissed her sweetly, with his forefinger just under her chin and his other hand pulling her close to him. When he released her, he half expected her to be so happy she'd just jump him right there. He was disappointed when still looked doubtful.

"You do believe me, don't you?" She looked at him, and opened her mouth to speak, but somehow could find no words. He waited for the reassurance, her trust, but it wasn't coming.

"If you love me, you'll tell me what you've been writing about," she said bravely. "That is unless of course it's about you and Mary Ann?" she challenged. The Professor stared at her.

"What?" He was stunned. "Why would that even cross your mind?"

"Because," Ginger said, her voice cracking from the tears she was desperately trying to keep back. "I heard you talking about it. MaryAnn went on about how romantic it was – and that you had put her in it! And you've been so secretive about it to top it all off! You were so careful not to let me see a sentence! What am I supposed to think?"

The Professor looked at her disbelievingly. "You're supposed to think that I'm your husband and I love you, that's what."

"Well then let me see the book," she demanded, holding out one hand.

"I can't!" he retaliated.

"Why not?!"

"I just can't!" he insisted.

His resistance only strengthened her belief more. She could not fathom why he wouldn't tell her what it was about. Why would he be so secretive about a chemistry book? Why should he hide it if it didn't have unfaithful content? Ginger's insecurity rose and she lashed out hurtfully.

"If you don't show me the book – I'll – I'll – I'll – " she was so overcome with grief and anger she couldn't even think of what she would do. "I'll never speak to you again," she promised.

"Now Ginger, you're acting crazy!" the Professor was still trying to placate the situation. He put his hands to calm her, but it was becoming more and more apparent she wasn't going to listen to reason.

"Oh so I'm crazy now?!" she huffed, clenching her fists.

"No," he clarified, raising his pointer finger as to make a point. "I said you're acting crazy."

"Perhaps you'd prefer someone who was a little less crazy?" she relayed, putting her hands on her hips. "Someone like Mary Ann!"

"Ginger for the last time, there is nothing between Mary Ann and me," the Professor maintained. He was beginning to lose his temper, but he was trying to control it.

"How can you be so sure? After all, she _is_ the most beautiful castaway. You made _that_ perfectly clear when you had the opportunity."

For him, this was the last straw. She was, of course, referring to the Miss Castaway Pageant they had at least three years ago, if not more. The Skipper had raised a toast to Ginger's beauty, and all would have been fine if Mr. Howell hadn't pursued the topic further. He proclaimed to the table Mrs. Howell was the most beautiful woman. Of course the Professor couldn't leave poor Mary Ann out, so he contended she was most beautiful causing a great commotion there afterwards. However, as the Professor explained to Gilligan, Ginger and Mrs. Howell had both done wonderful things, in their movie making and high society duties respectively. Mary Ann had not known any kind of joy like that. His exact words to the young man were, "Now what does she have that could be considered really and truly fabulous?" The Professor couldn't believe after he had only tried to gain back Mary Ann's confidence, Ginger was attacking him with this fact.

"Ginger that was years ago!" he fumed. "How can you still be thinking about that? Especially after all the men you've pursued since we've met!" he said bitterly.

"And just what is that supposed to mean!" said an outraged Ginger.

"What's that supposed to mean? You've been seducing every man one way or another ever since we were shipwrecked! Jonathan Kincaid, Dr. Boris Balinkoff, Wrongway Feldman _and_ Gilligan a substantial number of times if I may add!"

Ginger gawked at her husband lost for words. He knew better than anyone that Ginger's means of seduction were meant to benefit everyone, to get everyone off the isle and now he was throwing it in her face.

"I – I – I can't believe you!" she was shocked and stunned she could no longer think of anything to say.

"You can't believe me? You over hear something and suddenly I'm unfaithful. I didn't even kiss Erika Tiffany Smith when I was engaged to her! You on the other hand," he gestured to her. "Every chance you get you have your arms around a different man. As long as he's a man right? Nothing else matters. And I, like a gentleman, excused you for it, but no longer. You can be sure of that. I could forgive your past if you trusted me, but you've made it perfectly clear that you have all the evidence you need to incriminate me. These accusations coming from the island harlot!" Instantly, the Professor regretted opening his mouth. He had gotten so infuriated so fast he could barely control himself. He had not meant to say what he had. He stared at her, apologetically, trying desperately to retract what he said.

"I'm – I'm sorry Ginger – you know that's not what I – "

"Get out." Her eyes were narrowed and her arms crossed. She no longer looked hurt, she just looked livid.

"Ginger please," he begged. "I'm sorry. I never meant to – "

"I said," she cut him off, now uncrossing her arms. She took a step forward and with as much contempt as she could muster she said, "Get. Out."

He backed away from her slowly afraid she was about to scream. She watched him through narrowed slits as he inched his way over to the desk where he had stashed the makings of his book in the drawer. He opened it up and pulled out the stack of papers that looked to Ginger to be at least two hundred sheets if not more.

He looked up at her, absolutely heartbroken. He shook his head slowly, and then starred at the book in his hands. In one motion the manuscript was thrown to the bed, and he had walked out the door. She watched his retreating form, anger dissipating and becoming gradually replaced with a sense of great loss. When she could no longer hear his footsteps she eyed the pages lying on their bed. She tentatively approached the stack, and gently picked it up. She flipped it over and her eyes found the title _Learning Love: A Chemistry Professor's Lesson in Chemistry._ Under that was his small, looping cursive spelling out,_ By Professor Roy Hinkley Jr._

Ginger was unsure what to make of this. She flipped open the first page to find a small sentence, _Dedicated to my beloved wife, Ginger _written in the center of the page_. _Ginger felt her dread turn to guilt as she flipped open the next page to findmore of his handwriting filling up the whole thing, top to bottom, margin to margin. She began to read.

_It's strange. Love, I mean. I have, for longer than I can even remember, thought this word was just as I said, a word and nothing more. I even laughed inwardly sometimes when people used it, because of how they ridiculous they sounded, at least then anyway. After all, I was always under the impression the feeling that people proclaimed to be love was nothing more but a subconscious sexual desire, and I always felt above such urges. I won't deny that I've been attracted to women before, but not enough to make me act irrationally or cloud my judgment. No, I certainly thought love was an explanation for the weak minded for doing stupid things._

_And then I met Ginger. I didn't know when boarding the Minnow, of course, that I would find myself spell bound by this red-haired temptress, but somewhere along the way something happened. I just wish I knew what._

Ginger glossed through the beginning as he mostly described the shipwreck and the other castaways. However, he did occasionally throw in a sentence about not knowing he had just met his match and she could not help but feel more and more guilty with each page. She had only gone through about ten pages when she found a chapter entitled, _The Elements: Mixing Together To Make the Right Compound. _She realized within moments he had cataloged every moment of their time together. It was a chapter all about how they had come together despite their differences and pasts. Her guilt steadily increased tenfold as she read the next pages.

…_I can remember, very early on that I was trying to make nails to repair the damaged Minnow (and in retrospect, I know now how I should have done it). I was forging the nail over a small fire on the beach when she approached me from behind. Her footsteps were so quiet on the sand and her breathing so soft I hadn't even realized she was bent over standing only centimeters from my current position, gazing at little fire with interest._

"_How's it going Professor?" she said, which startled me from my work immediately. I doubt if it had been anyone else it would have had such an effect on me. _

"_Oh!" I finally got out a syllable. She was peering down at me with keen interest and I suddenly found myself lost for words. "Oh well – well," I was stumbling over my words as I pulled the nail from the flames. I hadn't noticed then, but my hands were shaking violently from my sheer nervousness. _

"_I'll have to – I'll have to wait 'til it…cools," I managed to say as I began to bring the nail to the bucket of water a few feet away. As I got up to do so, I noticed she was following me. Beautiful women never followed me. I then realized that over my shoulder she was looking at me expectantly and that I hadn't exactly finished my thought yet. "…before I try it," I finished, but not before a significant pause from me. _

_I let the nail splash down into the bucket of cool sea water before resting my forearms on my bamboo and clam shell tongs. _

"_Gee Professor," she said observing me. "I think it's amazing how you do all those experiments with such shaky hands," she marveled. Amazing. She had said the word amazing in referenced to me. _

_I looked down and noticed for the first time that they were actually shaking. "Well they weren't shaking until a second ago," I said truthfully. I mentally slapped myself. I couldn't believe had just left myself out in the open like that. Lucky for me, Ginger, ever preoccupied with rescue, didn't pick on my subtle clue._

"_Oh," she said, furrowing her brows in deep thought. "Maybe it's the heat or something," she said concerned as she lifted a delicate hand to my forehead. When her skin touched mine I swear I thought my temperature was rising ten degrees. I had to put a stop to this before I was nothing more than a puddle. _

"_Yeah," I said somewhat skeptically as I pulled away from her and pulled the nail from the water. "Skipper!" I said addressing the captain, eager to look anywhere but at her. "This nail is ready!"_

_However, I've chalked this up to my physical attraction to her and nothing more. But as if that wasn't enough, there was still more. That very same night as I was working on the nails Gilligan discovered a sap that hardened like cement that we could use to repair the boat. Not a day later he had found himself and the Skipper pasted to the side of the Minnow and the Howells came into my hut demanding I find a way to dissolve the glue. At first I was baffled by the situation itself, and then by the predicament. Though I admit quite cleverly I found the solution in perfume. I went to gather up as much as possible checking with both the girls. In my haste to find perfume I admit I was probably not thinking as clearly as normally. _

_As I approached her hut, I called out for her. "In here Professor," came her voice from inside. I was glad she was in the hut, because I didn't have time to hunt around for her. I strode in and noticed that she was packing up her possessions. She took notice of me and began to say something._

"_Do remember this dress?" she said as she extended it towards me. I took it from her and tossed it aside. "I made it from – " she was silenced instantly when I grabbed her arm and pulled her against me. I put my head towards the crook of her neck and I told her firmly, "Ginger, I've got to sniff your perfume."_

_I know how this sounds of course. Why didn't I just ask to smell her perfume from the bottle? Why did I rush in there pull her against me and start smelling her? Ginger seemed to think along the same lines, because she reached up and grabbed my shoulder._

"_Professor," she sounded like she falsely chastising me. "On the day we're leaving?" she giggled a little. I was so swept up in the moment, for a second I was just going to go along with it. I continued to inhale her intoxicating scent and did nothing to push myself away. _

"_Have you got anymore of this?" I breathed, still not tearing myself away from her. _

"_Professor," she said flirtatiously, "I think you've had enough." She was now holding onto me as well._

"_I can't explain it now," I started, but I remember then what I was here for. The solvent for the glue. Yes, stay on task, I coached myself. "But where do you keep your perfume?" I managed to get out. _

_She giggled at this statement. "Behind my ears! Can't you tell?" she laughed delicately, but I knew I couldn't keep this playful banter up. After all, Gilligan and the Skipper needed me._

"_No, no, no," I said pulling myself away to look at her. I still didn't let go of her though. I thought that was strange. Why was I still latched onto her arms despite my urgency? She was in mid laugh when I said this, and she stopped drifted off when she caught my expression. "The bottle, where do you keep the bottle?!" I demanded. _

"_Well, in my make up case," she said pointing to it, still seemingly amused by the situation. I grabbed it, and tore out of the hut, convinced if I stayed any longer I might accost her again._

_I'm sure she didn't think much of this. Ginger was used to men throwing themselves at her, so why should I be any different? But needless to say, I became much keener of the things occurring on the island after that. Truth be told, I think I began to, after that anyway, begin to store mentally every moment I was with her. _

Ginger smiled a little. She remembered everything as if it were yesterday. He had rushed in there and just pulled her against him, she didn't know what else to think. He left her standing in the middle of the hut alone, perplexed. She remembered thinking about the perfume and what the woman at the counter had said to convince her to buy it. "Well that salesgirl was wrong," Ginger recalled herself saying. "This perfume doesn't drive men wild, it makes them absolutely batty!"

She glanced down and the writing, unable to believe he remembered all this. She had no idea he had any feelings for her that early on, especially when, back then, he seemed so engulfed in his work and experiments. She continued to read.

_Not long after the whole perfume fiasco, the girls had, in a stroke of luck, caught a deflated life raft from the Minnow, and with very little adjustment it could be made seaworthy again. Of course, this had to occur simultaneously with the discovery of a gold mine that made us all positively consumed with greed. Each passenger, (including myself I'm ashamed to say) had secretly snuck on a bag of gold to take with them and the life raft began to sink due to the superfluous weight of the gold. As if in slow motion, I can still visually recreate exactly what happened when the raft began to sink._

_The lagoon water began spilling over the sides of the raft and Ginger and Mary Ann began tipping into the lagoon. Both were screaming, but it was only Ginger, who was nearest to me, who I consoled._

_She reached out for my arm, and I took, while trying to calm her down. "It's all right," I called so I could be heard over everyone else's shouts. Ginger, I doubt, was listening, but seemingly soothed by my presence reached up and grabbed my knee and pulled herself back onto the part of the raft that was still afloat. And then, taken completely by surprise, she wrapped her arms around my neck. _

_With all the shock and panic in my head, I didn't react much beyond keeping my arms against the sides to prop myself up, so she and I would stay above water for as long as possible. I heard the Skipper and Gilligan shout something, but whatever it was, it didn't register. Ginger had her arms around me._

"_Oh we're sinking! I can't swim!" she cried, tightening her grip around my neck. I reacted without thinking and put one arm around her waist to push her up further above the surface. I then returned it to where it was when I began to recede back some. Ultimately it did little good. In a matter of moments the raft was at the bottom of the lagoon while the seven us paddled back to the shore. Nothing terrible came of this I suppose, except that it ended up with us still amidst coconuts and bamboo. Despite it all though, I found a silver lining in the situation. And that was, Ginger had sought out me for help. _

_This was not her first time doing so, of course. In fact, I can remember it happening a lot, now that I actually think about it. Very early on, when we still only had one hut, the women quarreled with us because we refused to build them one of their own. They parted with us to prove their points, and when we realized how much we needed them we tried scaring them to get them to come back. It was an ill conceived plan, which is why I had nothing to do it, but when we came back to reconcile, the women, spotting a large ominous moving shape in the shadows thought we had done it again. When they realized that we were standing behind them, the sprinted towards us. _

_And I'll never forget that. Fear, one of our most primal instincts, reveals a great deal about our character. Mrs. Howell dashed towards her husband, Mary Ann to the waiting arms of Gilligan and Ginger…well Ginger ran to me. She got behind me and put her arms around me, and I feeling ridiculously heroic at the moment, put my arms in front of her as if to shield her from any danger. _

_Did I love her then? I don't think I really know myself. I mean, there must have been a moment, a time when something switched over from being friends to…well what we are now. I'm not really sure. What I am sure of is that Ginger is the only one now. I had my doubts earlier on, mostly because she was so glamorous, and I sometimes thought there could be no common ground between us. I thought that certainly someone more down to Earth was who I'd wind up going for, a more practical person, like Mary Ann._

Ginger couldn't help but notice upon reading this, that if he had thought it too, what was so outrageous about her thinking it too? He had at one point obvious considered Mary Ann as a potential match, so why did he seem so disappointed and enrage by her suspicion? She obviously had had a good reason to doubt him. _Still, _Ginger reasoned, moving her hand across his pristine writing. _If this was about his desires for Mary Ann, he never would have shown me. _She decided she wanted to find out very much though, what he had concluded about the brunette farm girl.

_Why I even recall a time, when Mr. Howell and Skipper were arguing about who was prettier, Ginger or Mrs. Howell, I suddenly chimed in that Mary Ann deserved to be considered as well. I was very surprised at how adamant I got about the whole situation. I even said Mary Ann was the most beautiful girl on the island. In retrospect though, I think a number of things may have been acting on my subconscious. _

_Firstly, I had been a little too open with my displays of affection for Ginger in the past. Aside from nuzzling her neck, I also found myself seeking her out for help. She once acted as a nurse for me when Gilligan needed to have his fillings replaced. When Gilligan mysteriously became invisible Ginger ran some tests on him for me. Whenever I needed assistance I asked her before anyone else. One time I even recall Gilligan needing to gain weight for the navy. Both Ginger and Mary Ann were force-feeding hi crab and pineapple respectively. I approached him to see if he would let me borrow one of the girls to help with my experiment. I then said casually, "How 'bout you, Ginger?"_

_I suppose this was my way of trying to cover my tracks and throw her off the scent. And maybe, in my own twisted way I was trying to make her jealous. After all, how did I feel that she could make any man melt like a pile of goo if she swayed her hips at him? I supposed I might have wanted her to feel something, though if she did, she didn't show it for a moment. Also, I did feel Mary Ann had been slighted, and I thought it must be very damaging for her self esteem to be the only girl not thought lovely in her own respect. _

_I only wish that the person who really did love her had spoken up for her at the time. I have had my suspicion about Gilligan and Mary Ann for a long time,(ever since the Howell's tried to pair them up in fact) but Gilligan always shies away from her at the last minute. In fact I remember once, the Howells heard on the radio that the pastor who married them was an imposter, and that the Skipper would need to remarry them immediately. The Skipper hadn't had much practice marrying people so he asked Mary Ann and Gilligan to be stand-ins for the Howells while he rehearsed. The Skipper had just been trying to convince Gilligan that maybe marriage wasn't all that bad, when Mary Ann came out of the foliage wearing a purple veil and holding a small bouquet asking him if he was ready to 'marry' her. After they convinced the sullen first mate to do so, Mary Ann puckered her lips hoping to get a kiss from her bumbling seaman only to be jilted once more. Mary Ann, bless her heart, seems eager to please him and he seems to slight her every time. _

Ginger reminisced fondly for a moment about the time in which Mrs. Howell tried to make a match of Gilligan and Mary Ann. She remembered how Mary Ann had positively glowed when she thought Gilligan had brought her follows. Ginger had even tried to tell Gilligan how Mary Ann felt about him, but it ended up being misconstrued by the innocent mind of the sweet sailor. Ginger had always thought the two were perfectly matched. She continued to read to see if he mentioned them anymore as it made her suddenly forget about the mess she had made in her own relationship. She was surprised to find a rather tender and heartfelt revelation followed this sweetness.

_But I knew that I had no feelings for Mary Ann the day that her 'alleged' boyfriend married someone else. Ginger had told us that the only way to make Mary Ann forget about her boyfriend was to make sure one of became suddenly infatuated with her. I said without the slightest hesitation, 'Now hold on just a second, I have never shown even the slightest romantic interest in Mary Ann," and I suddenly knew. It was only Ginger. It always had been. _

_What's more is the Skipper too had found a problem in this plan. "I've been acting like her big brother for years," he said. "I can't start acting like her boyfriend now!" _

_But Gilligan made no protests. In fact after we had settled that the three of us would 'act' affectionate with Mary Ann, Gilligan jumped in with, "What about me? Who's gonna teach me?" as though he were eager for the chance to court Mary Ann. And deep down, I'm certain that's what he felt. _

_Later that night, Ginger had promised to help me woo Mary Ann. I admit that I have always been awkward in this department, and I was glad that if I should practice this with anybody it would be with Ginger. Though it seems every time Ginger's coached me, whether it be in acting or in romance, I've wound up embarrassing myself and oddly enough, caring about her even more._

_Ginger and I had been practicing for hours before I was ready. She told me there was no one more charming than Cary Grant, and she was going to 'mold' me into him. She had me go in and come out several times in the beginning, each time telling me to come in and say the most romantic thing I could think of. Something that would just entrance Mary Ann, and make her forget Horace Higginbotham. I couldn't really get the hang of it though. I tried telling her, Ginger that is, how straight her teeth were (and they were!) and how she was very punctual but she insisted I wasn't trying hard enough. She said we'd try to do it once more before we tried something else._

_I stood outside her hut for the last time, and searched my brain for something romantic. 'Some thing about her appearance is good' Ginger had said. 'Something not to do with teeth' she had added a moment later._

'_Come in," she said, and I swallowed. I hadn't thought of anything. I thought it best to adlib and swung the door inside. I walked in to see her once again looking into her mirror and spraying her perfume on her neck casually._

"_Good evening, Mary Ann," I addressed Ginger. She looked up at me and placed the mirror and perfume aside. She then smiled as if ready for my romantic thought. I was completely blank though. _

"_You look very healthy tonight," I said as genuinely as I could. I figured I might as well sell it. Ginger always said the audience often doesn't recognize you've made a mistake if you don't show them that you have. Ginger, however, was a more critical viewer than most._

"_Oh brother," she sighed, putting her hands in her lap. _

"_Oh that wasn't very much like Cary Grant," I sighed heavily, and turned away from her, highly embarrassed and dejected. _

"_Wasn't even very much like General Grant," she retorted, still seated and obviously irritated._

_I stuck my thumbs in my pockets. "I'll never be able to learn this," I said shaking my head. _

"_Let me show you, Professor," She rose from her seated position and approached me. I bowed my head and turned to face her, ready for her demonstration. _

"_Now," she said, putting her hands up as to set up the situation. "Pretend I'm Cary Grant."_

_I arched my eyebrows. Of all those who resembled Cary Grant, I wouldn't exactly say Ginger was one of them. "You?" _

"_Yeah," she said waving this off, as though it were perfectly normal. "Pretend that I'm tall and, charming, loaded with masculinity." _

"_Well I shall find it very easy to pretend that you are tall and charming," I couldn't help but say. I wanted to add, "Because you are."Instead I let another thought I was thinking escape my mouth. I said unabashed, "But you've got the wrong kind of load." I smiled at her, kind of amused by my own pun, but also in hopes that she would take the remark in jest. I didn't want her to slap me. I didn't want her to stop helping me either, because I was beginning to find I just enjoyed her presence._

_I should have known though, this would not offend her. She heard this all the time. Instead of getting mad, she just tried to get me to focus, since I was obviously not…not on courting Mary Ann anyway._

"_We're just pretending, Professor," she reasoned. Yes, fun and games was over, she was all business right now. "Now, Cary is the type of man who sweeps a girl off her feet," she said rather intensely, holding her hands up for emphasis. "He'd take her in his arms, like this" she said, and promptly put her arms around me and leaned me back. I was…a little taken back, as women were never usually this aggressive with me. "And he'd whisper her name, over and over and over again." She looked at me through her lidded eyes, and very softly whispered 'Mary Ann' three times._

_I furrowed my brow."Isn't that a bit redundant?" I asked sincerely. Ginger sighed and let me go._

"_Professor," she scolded. "A girl likes to hear her name!" she again, used her hands to emphasize this fact. "Now let's try it again," she began reassume our former position. _

"_Mary Ann, Mary Ann, Mary Ann," she whispered breathily, making each 'Mary Ann' communicate a different meaning almost. In a hushed voice, as to not ruin the mood, she said "now you whisper something back to me."_

"_Uh…Cary?" I said, remembering that she was supposed to be Cary Grant for the first time since she had mentioned it. _

"_Yes," she said awaiting my romantic answer. I couldn't help it though. All I could see was her eyes. All I could hear was her voice. All I could smell was her perfume. I inhaled to have flowery scent fill nose and the first thought that entered my head popped out. "Gee, you smell nice tonight," I murmured. _

"_Oh!" Ginger sighed, pushing me away and onto her bed. _

_Yes, I managed very often to embarrass myself wherever Ginger was concerned. After Gilligan lost the Eye of the Idol or should I say, eleven dollars worth of quartz, and we were sent on a wild goose chase for it, I had managed to get myself paired up with Ginger to help with the search. We stood at the mouth of the cave where Gilligan had been in earlier in the day, debating who would go inside._

"_I refuse," I stated firmly, arms crossed._

"_You're just being stubborn," Ginger argued back._

"_What I'm being is sensible."_

"_All right," she said with a note of finality. "I'll do it," she challenged, turning her back to me and making her way to the small entrance. Instinct took over, and my hand shot over to her arm, pulling her back around to face me._

"_Ginger, you are hardly dressing for spelunking," I couldn't help but let my eyes wander briefly over her figure as I said so._

"_Professor," she sounded a little outraged. "What you said!" she said as though she were disappointed in me. _

"_My dear, a spelunker is a person whose hobby is speleology," I began. I noticed she still looked a little scandalized and continued, "In other words, poking around in caves."_

"_Oh," she said plainly._

"_However," I said, before she could try to get away again. "If it'll make you happy, I'll crawl around and look around." I couldn't help but feel this was a pivotal moment in our relationship. Ginger was not accustomed to getting things from people because they wanted to please her, I don't think anyway. Granted, she could charm people easily, but I very much doubted people had her interest at heart when they assisted her, rather than their own. I also couldn't help but realize the change in myself. I had been so obdurate about the whole thing, until I was alone with her. And now, all I wanted to do was make her happy._

"_W-well," she stopped me from entering. "Are you going to do it with a positive attitude?" _

"_What possible difference could my attitude make," I questioned._

"_All the difference in the world!" she insisted. "Why attitude is one of the key words in method acting!" _

"_Ginger, I'm just looking for eleven dollars worth of quartz."_

_Ginger would not hear of it though. She said I had to think mole. She demonstrated thinking mole by putting her hands up to her chin like they were paws, and looking up with a sad sort of expression. She made me mimic it. And I did it! She then proceeded to tell me I looked more like a gopher. She said my eyes weren't 'sad' enough. "Moles have sad eyes," she told me and made me do it again. I tried to turn this whole ridiculous thing into a joke and began ducking my head down and swatting the air. _

"_What are you doing now?" she asked incredulously. _

"_I'm making sure a hawk doesn't swoop down and carry me off," I clarified. _

_She looked at me like I was crazy. Perhaps I was. I have never done something so humiliating for anyone else but Ginger. It didn't stop there either. Once Ginger and I were searching for Gilligan by the lagoon and she called me over. She pointed out that there was a reed in the water moving! I told her that, despite the fact she had seen it in a movie, there was no way Gilligan was breathing through that reed. All she did was look forlornly down and say "Professor," in that way that she does. I didn't even argue, I just walked into the lagoon for her. I can't help but add almost got myself chewed up. A gigantic beast rose out of the water and I ran for my life just because Ginger had looked so disappointed with me. _

_It seemed like I would do about anything to please her. Like help her rehearse. I think it was very telling that she asked me to help her so often. It was like when Mary Ann thought she was Ginger, she sought out Gilligan to help her in a romantic scene. I personally believe this was Mary Ann's subconscious acting on her, giving her an excuse to kiss the man she truly desired as Mary Ann. _

_One day, Ginger approached me and asked if I would do a scene with her where I played her lover, leaving her for another. Initially we were going to do it alone, but it proved difficult for me, to play as if there was another women there without there actually being one. So Ginger grabbed Mary Ann from laundry duty to play my new girlfriend. I admittedly had gotten better since the first time I ever acted with Ginger, but still, I managed to ruin the scene by falling on a table after Ginger' shot' me. As I lay on her bed, the two girls attended to me. _

"_Are you all right, Professor," said a concerned Mary Ann. I barely heard her though, all I could see was Ginger, who was on my left, looking at me from behind the bed. I propped myself up to try and talk to her._

"_Oh I'm afraid I didn't help you rehearse very well, Ginger," it was the only thing I could think of. She needed my help and I had failed. _

"_Lie still Professor," she said, gently pushing my shoulders to the bed. "Nose bleeds can be dangerous," she warned. _

"_I didn't see the table when I fell," I tried to explain to her. "Oh I guess I'm just a clumsy actor," I said dejectedly. _

"_Don't be silly Professor. You were marvelous," she beamed at me. _

"_Oh!" I perked up immediately. My spirits were instantly lifted from hearing her say marvelous that I just launched into a lame joke about not having acting in my blood, but blood in my acting. Neither girl laughed. _

_I have never been very charming to say the least, but Ginger's need to perform has definitely helped me out immensely. Still, when I found myself in the first – romantic relationship of my life, I found immediately needed her guidance. See, a wealthy socialite, Erika Tiffany Smith, found her way onto our isle. She was very taken with me I suppose, because she insisted on having me show her around. She seemed to take such an interest in my work that I considered asking her for a lab grant, and perhaps a lab partner, since at the time I believe her to be interested in such things. When I confronted her about it, she mistakenly thought I meant to propose to her and I had not the heart to take it back. Instead I tried to get to know her and found quickly that she was not interested in the same things as I was._

_I sought Ginger out, as I knew all too well, she was experienced with relationships and could tell me what to fix. After a walk with Erika I made my way to her hut and knocked on her door. A sweet gentle, "Come in" floated over to me, and I opened the door to find her standing, almost positioned as if waiting for someone. _

_She looked to me, and her poise fell. "Oh it's you," she said making her way over to her chair. _

_I frowned. "That, Ginger, is exactly the type of reaction I've been getting from women lately," I explained to her._

"_Well I thought you and Miss Erika Tiffany Smith were engaged to be married," Ginger said casually spraying some perfume on her throat. She didn't seem to be bothered by this. In fact she didn't seem to care much at all. _

"_Well the more I talk to her, the farther away from me she seems to be drifting."_

"_What have you been doing?" she inquired. _

"_Showing her the island," I said crossing my arms. I was mildly frustrated since I could not see where I had gone wrong. "Pointing out various jungle growths, discussing microbiology." I then bent over to get her attention, as she was now putting on mascara. "Why do you know I was fortunate enough to come across a Gigantius Rosinius and she wasn't the least bit impressed!" I said indignantly._

_It seemed I had caught her attention, but she looked at me like I had six heads. She blinked for a moment before she said anything._

"_Uh Professor," she started. "When you were in your teens, didn't you ever go to a drive-in movie?" _

_I thought for a moment. "Once," I resigned. "But the curvature of the scene and fidelity of the sound made it impossible to enjoy the picture." It was true. I could barely pay attention listening to the static behind the words and I was terribly distracted by how stretched everyone looked. No, I vowed never to do it again. _

"_Let me start again," Ginger said. "In your hometown didn't you ever meet a girl whose house had a porch swing?"_

"_As a matter of fact I did," I recalled. She was a lovely girl, in my mathematic class. She invited me over one day in sophomore year of high school to help her with algebra, (which I am proud to say I was at the top of my class in). I wrung her door bell to find her in what seemed to be her best clothes. She had a long full blue skirt on, and a white blouse all buttoned up. I swore she looked to be ready to go out._

"_Let's do our homework out here," she insisted, pulling my hand over to her porch swing. I sat and felt the whole swing move, noting to myself how we were never going to get work done. I opened my book and decided to give it a shot anyway._

"_Now I know you said you had trouble multiplying polynomials but it's really quite simple," I explained. "You see you simply use the mnemonic device FOIL, which stands for – " I looked up at her to see she was staring at me intently. "Shouldn't you be writing this down?" I inquired. _

"_We can do this a later. Why don't we just sit and talk for awhile?" she said removing the book from my lap. I blinked. _

"_Well ok," I said, shifting to face her. "Well I heard the most fascinating thing in the newspapers. Seems this fellow by the name of Oswald Avery has found out that genetic material is comprised of DNA, which actually stands for deoxyribonucleic acid. No one knows exactly what it looks like yet but they've been doing some thinking and – "_

"_Roy," she cut me off. She was now leaning so close to me, I could smell her perfume. _

"_Yeah?" I questioned. Before I knew it she had her arms around me and trying to kiss me. She kept moving her face to mine and I kept leaning back farther with each attempt. Finally I tumbled off the swing and made a hasty exit, thinking all the way home about how many germs she probably had. It was an experience to say the least._

_I began to explain this fact to Ginger. "Oh but she was quite impossible," I began. "I tried to start intelligent conversation with her, but all she was interested in was hugging and kissing," in exasperation I threw my hands up, "Kissing and hugging!" I settled on her bed frustrated. _

"_Professor," she said. "Don't knock it 'til you try it!"_

"_Well if that's the way to win Erika, I'm afraid I haven't got a chance. I don't even know the first thing about it." While I had for two years been able to watch Ginger it had seemed I really hadn't absorbed a thing. I was about as romantic as a mushroom._

_Ginger didn't seem to think there was a problem though. She gracefully rose from her seated position and strode over to my slumped form._

"_Professor, school is now open," she said coyly. _

"_School?" I perked my head and raised an eyebrow._

"_You've come to the right teacher. Want a lesson?" she said smoothly. _

"_Well," I considered this. "Perhaps that would be advisable."_

_That seemed to be enough for Ginger. "Up!" she commanded, moving both her arms to signal me. I shuffled slowly to my feet, sort of nervous but also intrigued for what Ginger had in mind. "Now put your arms around me," she instructed._

_I looked down, as I moved one arm to her waist and the other to her arm. I sort of grabbed her as though she were an inanimate object which in retrospect might have been why Ginger looked so confused when I finished and looked back up at her._

"_What's it going to be?" said a befuddled Ginger. "Two out of three falls?" _

"_I'm afraid I don't understand," I said sincerely. _

"_Well put your both arms around me," she said laughing a little as she said so. I understood she meant for there to be a little more tenderness involved so I looped the arm I had around her shoulder back around her waist. However it was more like I was encircling her waist than actually holding it as my arms weren't really making much contact._

"_Well you can hold me a little tighter Professor," she was back to that silky voice. "I won't break."_

"_Well – I- I – I don't want to crush your dress," I managed to say, though being so close to her made me nervous. I was stuttering and sweating profusely already and we had barely begun._

"_Try," she challenged. I tightened my grip around her waist, though her hands remained on her waist as though she were watching the scene from afar. "Now kiss me," she commanded. _

_I leaned my head and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, a gesture that pretty much was indicative of my past romantic relationships or relationships in general for that matter. She frowned at me._

"_On the lips, Professor," she reprimanded. I feigned ignorance on this one, since I was so nervous about actually kissing her outside acting purposes._

"_Want both of them, at once?" _

"_It's the only way to fly," she purred. I leaned back a moment and studied her lips. I chanted to myself,' just do it, just do it' and before I could stop myself I placed my lips on hers. It…it felt nice, and I was enjoying it, but I pulled away as I didn't want it to become awkward. _

"_How was that?" I said with some swagger admittedly. Well, I had enjoyed it. Was it wrong to assume she had as well?_

_She looked away and shook her head. "That wouldn't even satisfy your mother," she said truthfully. I lost all my confidence in one foul swoop. I let my arms fall from around her and sat back down on the bed. It was utterly hopeless in my mind._

"_Professor," she approached me with a cautious look. "I don't know if you're ready for this, but it's for your own good." She swept me into her arms and bent me over the bed, pushing her lips to mine urgently. It was – I can't even describe. It seemed to me that was the first kiss Ginger and I had had out of acting or on her part, seduction. She was extremely passionate as she pulled me close and moved her tongue over my lips. I feel odd about getting into the details, but needless to say it was my first real kiss and when it was over my eyes were still closed hoping that she would return with more intensity._

"_That, Professor, is what Mrs. Tiffany Smith wants. Whaddya think?" I wasn't thinking clearly at the time. I couldn't come up with words to describe what I thought._

"_Uh…interesting, Ginger," I managed. "But how am I going to get her – to get me – into this position?"_

_And while this was our first experience kissing outside of theatrics, it was not our first time at all. _

_I'll never forget the first time she kissed me at all. It was while we were 'acting' though I can hardly call what I did acting. That pompous fellow, Duke Williams, was making plays at Ginger and Mary Ann when he should have been on his surfboard back to Hawaii. Okay, I was slightly, and let me emphasize "slightly" envious at the way Ginger looked at him. However, rescue was definitely a figure in the equation of wanting Duke off the island. When he crossed the line, we decided the best way to divert his attention was to pretend that the girls were already involved. _

_It seems like foreshadowing in hind sight, but wasn't it odd that the obvious choice for the faux pairings were Gilligan and Mary Ann and Ginger and I? Even then, did we subconsciously know that we all fit together right? Maybe it's coincidence. Maybe it was just the fact that or ages matched, but secretly I believe for a long time we all knew things were headed that way._

_I digress. The Skipper sent that brawny buffoon our way and found us in a clearing nearby the huts. We were lying in opposite directions, her head on my shoulder and mine on her opposite. She was gently stroking my hair when Duke came along (I have impeccable hearing if I do say so myself). _

"_Are you sure you're not angry with me?" She said staring lovingly at me. Still awkward about faking a relationship, I stared at the sky, which was actually quite beautiful that night. _

"_Don't give it a second thought, dear," I said back, but even to me it didn't sound terribly convincing. It said it almost stiffly now that I think about it. Well, to be fair, I had so little experience with real relationships so I had nothing to fall back on. It didn't seem to matter to Ginger though. She said we could pull off anything as long as I let her do most of the talking. _

"_But it was so stupid of me to pay so much attention to Duke," she lamented. God, I almost believe her, she said it so genuinely. It wasn't like when she was seducing Gilligan to get something out of him, she said it lovingly and sweetly. I still don't know how she does it (although I entertained the idea for awhile that perhaps it wasn't all acting on her part). "I mean, all he does is talk about his muscles." She began to readjust herself so she was sitting and staring down at me._

"_You've got brains," she furthered as she put her arm around the back of my head so it would lay in her lap. "How perfectly wonderful you are." Wonderful. She had done it again. I suddenly felt a surge of self confidence._

"_A very high IQ," I said nonchalantly. It was true though, I did have a very high IQ. _

"_Say it for me again," she cooed. With her hands under my head, I now was looking directly at her. I arched my eyebrows slightly. I didn't find anything romantic about what I had just said._

"_A very high IQ," I said with the same intonation as I figured I had done something right if she wanted me to repeat it._

"_No," she laughed at me. "I meant the name of the star," she clarified._

"_Oh," I said a little humbled. "Alpha Centauri." I said it slowly, and when I did, it did almost sound romantic._

"_Oh," Ginger sighed, lifting her head as though she were in ecstasy. As she did, I could not help but lift my head ever so slightly to study her expression. "That's so romantic," she breathed in and leaned down to kiss me, for the first, but certainly not the last time. _

_I remember as she bent down, things seemed to slow down. She hadn't said we were going to kiss after all, just speak sweet nothings to each other. Of course, Ginger was nothing if not a professional actress, one who does her best to convince her audience she is authentic. All I can remember about it was that as quick as it came, it was over just as fast. Just as I had closed my eyes and began to lift my hand to bring her closer to me, she pulled away. It was…nerve wracking and exhilarating. Yet I managed to regain my composure rather well, if I do say so myself. _

"_It's four and tenths light years from the Earth," I said as-a-matter-of-factly. She seemed to be so impressed with my knowledge that I couldn't help throwing out trivia left and right. And even though she was acting, it was nice to have some adoration for my rather extensive knowledge._

"_You just don't know what a man with brains does to me," she purred. "Capital of North Dakota?" she inquired playfully._

"_Bismarck," I responded without hesitation. She made a noise as though she were excited by this fact. "South Dakota?" she pursued further._

"_Pierre," I said confidently. _

"_Lucky Pierre," She bent down and kissed me again. By that time, I think Duke had seen enough, and she pulled out of our kiss ever so slowly. She kept character for just a moment longer, and then chanced to look over to the bushes. She noticed, like I had, Duke was gone (only to find Mary Ann and Gilligan romancing somewhere else). _

"_I think he bought it," she said smiling. "Don't you?" she said glancing back to me. I sat up and looked at her couldn't help but briefly lament that the moment had come and gone so quickly._

"_Yes, yes I do." I said, looking away. "You were very…convincing." _

_And after that I was a goner. I realized soon after the incident with Erika the differences in the relationships between her and I and Ginger and I. Ginger had always expressed interest in my intellect and even admired me for it. Erika seemed easily bored with it. I can't tell you how often I went on walks with Ginger and I would point out things to her. I even remember once after a particularly nice one, Mrs. Howell came running after us. She cried, "Ginger! Professor!" while frantically waving her gloved hand at us. We would find out later from Mr. Howell that after Mrs. Howell's failed attempt of matching Gilligan and Mary Ann, she planned for us to be her next match. Of course once he gave it away to us, she resigned with an 'oh poo' and did not speak to him for several days. Nevertheless, I thought it terribly interesting that again, we should be matched up like this. If I had been a believer in fate I would have said it was sending some very strong signals._

_Even though back then I felt such things, I still tried to resist what was happening to me. I knew all too well how poorly I communicated emotion and thought it best not to become involved with a woman I could quite possibly never see again if rescue should even happen. However, the most I seemed to resist, the more she seemed to pull me in. One day, camera equipment washed up on shore and I cleverly suggested we make a movie, send it out and wait for someone to find it and rescue us. At first I thought we'd merely write down our coordinates, take some shots of the island to alert viewers what they should look for and introduce the fellow castaways, however it somehow all got away from me._

_Mr. Howell, assumed role as director and began scripting our rescue tape as if it were a movie. A more pragmatic man would not have let this happen, but I suspect perhaps when I saw I had a scene with Ginger, I decided to let the impracticality slide._

_To give you an idea of how the scene was supposed to read, I've included a portion of the script written by Mr. Howell himself. _

EXT – COMMON HUT AREA – DAY

THE PROFESSOR is seated at the table where he and the other castaways eat their breakfast, lunch and dinner. He has just come up with a way have them all rescued when GINGER comes to thank him for all he's done.

GINGER  
_(runs on from off screen)_  
Oh there you are Professor!

THE PROFESSOR  
_(stands up to face her)_  
Ginger!

GINGER  
Oh Professor, you're a genius!

THE PROFESSOR  
I do have a rather high IQ.

GINGER  
Well this whole rescue plan was your idea!

THE PROFESSOR  
Necessity is the mother of invention.

GINGER  
_(holds her arms out)_  
There must be some way I can thank you!

THE PROFESSOR  
_(holds his hand up to stop her)_  
No thanks are necessary.

GINGER  
_(persisting)_  
But there must be _some _way I can thank you!

THE PROFESSOR  
Well if you insist, the customary way will do.

_Having a photographic memory, I was able to memorize the lines easily enough. I didn't put much effort into how I was going to say anything as I didn't think it would matter, being that the film was silent and the scene wasn't exactly essential to our rescue. _

_The first take we didn't even get to my first line. Ginger ran up behind me and I was still so nervous about being in a scene with her that when I tried to stand the chair fell over. Mr. Howell howled, "CUT!" and the scene was brought to a screeching halt._

_I tried to explain about the chair, but the millionaire would simply not hear of it. "You're not doing a scene with the chair, you're doing a scene with Ginger!" he insisted before making us start again. _

_The second take was going all right; we got through all the lines at least. I said all my lines as though I was reading them off the page, as truthfully I was just reading it from my memory. Ginger was wonderful as always. Just after she, for the second time, asked what she could to for me, I stuck out my hand and told her the customary way would do. I remember the way she looked. It looked over at the camera with an 'Oh brother' sort of face. Mr. Howell screamed, if possible, louder this time. _

_He told me that in Hollywood, you show gratitude with a kiss. As if that did me any good. I was already nervous just to be acting with her and now he expected me to kiss her with both he and Gilligan (the cameraman) watching intently. _

_We began the scene again, halfway through. She was about to lean forward to kiss me and I did the only thing I could think of. I turned my head quickly, since I figured a kiss on the cheek would suffice for Mr. Howell. I was wrong._

_When he stopped the scene for the third time, I feigned being angry. "What is it now?!" I said irately._

"_You turned your stupid head, that's what!" he shouted back at me. I knew of course then he meant for us to really kiss, and I tried to come up with any excuse not to._

"_Kissing on the mouth is far from sanitary!" I protested. "It can lead to all types of bacterial transfer." To be fair this was true, but I was more afraid of being incredibly embarrassed. Not only did I not want an audience when I kissed a woman, I also did not want that woman to realize how very inexperienced I was. Most of all though, I think I was afraid of caring for her more than I already knew I did. _

_Ginger was, surprisingly upset when I wouldn't kiss her. She had her advances spurned many times before (repeatedly by a certain first mate) and merely shrugged them off. Instead she looked incredulously at me and said, "You certainly make a kiss sound romantic! Like germ warfare!!" _

_I think, in the deepest recesses of my mind I thought she was offended, maybe perhaps she even cared for me some. Perhaps that is what eventually gave me the courage to kiss her._

"_Will you forget the science Professor and give her a real kiss!" Mr. Howell boomed. We started the scene over again and I realized there was no possible way of getting out of kissing her. So I might as well embrace it. Literally. _

_When it came time, she leaned up and kissed me sweetly on the lips. I suppose I could have pulled back and let that be the end of it, but I somehow doubted Mr. Howell was going to let us go with that. So I did the only thing I could think of. I put my arms around her and pulled her closer. She in turn wrapped her arms around my neck and leaned in even more. She responded further by bending over me over the table and kissing me deeper. I was so swept up in it, (as no one has ever kissed me the way she did) that I forgot Mr. Howell and Gilligan were even there._

_After some time had passed (who knows how long?) I do recall faintly hearing Gilligan's voice as though I were under water. "That sure is some kiss," he commented, and I bet he was starring wide eyed as we had been going at it for at least a full minute. Ginger would tell me later that the longest on screen kiss was by Jane Wyman and Regis Toomey in the 1941 film called, 'You're in the Army Now.' Apparently they kissed for over three minutes. She also commented afterwards that she said we gave them a run for their money. _

"_It's a doozy," I was faintly aware of Mr. Howell saying. I guess he was finally satisfied. "No germ could live through that kiss!" _

_Later when we watched it, I was suddenly admittedly a little more self conscious as now everyone was watching including Mrs. Howell who reminded me of my mother some and Mary Ann who I felt was like a younger sister to me. Mr. Howell made a highly embarrassing comment as we all watched Ginger and I lock lips. He said jokingly to Mrs. Howell behind him, "You shouldn't see this Lovey, it's for adults." _

_I began to flush, but luckily I was in the back and it was dark so no one saw. Mr. Howell then asked me how I learned to hold my breath so long, and I silently wished that I could just walk away and retire to my hut for the rest of my life. It was excruciating. Yet, I will admit to date, that is one of the best kisses I've ever received, and despite what followed I wouldn't have traded it for anything._

_I realize most of these anecdotes are indicative of our physical chemistry exclusively. You may be wondering what this all really has to do with love. You may be wondering what common ground a chemistry professor and Hollywood starlet could have? Let me be clear when I say this; while truthfully we don't have quite the same tastes in work or pleasure our personal experiences together have bonded us far better than any common interest ever could. We have experienced happiness and disappointment together, irritation and even anger. It has enabled us to share personal thought without fear of judgment, definitely on my own behalf if not Ginger's as well. I know people have told me from a very early age that it was difficult to get me to open up. I think in civilization it would have been very strenuous for me to form a relationship as I would be constantly self conscious about my feelings. Here, I've been with her through so much, she's seen all sides of me and I can't imagine opening up to anyone but her ever again._

_I can still remember the first time this occurred to me. I had just developed a method of recharging the radio's dead batteries. As luck would have it, the first thing we heard was a news bulletin about 'Operation Powder Keg' which as we soon found out meant to detonate a missile in the South Pacific as part of a routine test. We were, to put it mildly, horrified to realize they were planning to test the explosive in the exact place we stood. _

_I remember taking a walk through the jungle at night to try and ease my fear. I admittedly had handled total annihilation better than most of the others, but I was terribly frightened and I found walking was usually very soothing for me. I had only been out for about ten minutes when I walked into the clearing and saw her sitting there. She was slightly hunched over, seated on a fallen tree, hands in lap looking without a doubt forlorn._

_I wasn't expecting to see her. I think my heart did a somersault in my chest. I was nervous, but simultaneously so glad to see her. "Hi," I said quietly, as it was all I could think of to say. _

_She looked up at me. "Oh hi," she said gently, smiling a little. _

_I began to approach her, and then it occurred to me that perhaps she wanted to be alone. "Am I intruding?" I asked her._

"_Oh no," she said kindly. I began to take my seat next to her as she continued. "I was just thinkin' what a waste my life has been. I mean, so I was an actress. So what? I never really did anything for anyone," she said sadly. I was shocked to hear her say this since she always seemed so passionate about acting. Until this moment I think I had thought perhaps that Ginger was somewhat self absorbed and maybe even shallow. Hearing her say this though, I realize her air was probably all an act. Inside she was just as vulnerable and compassionate as Mary Ann. Perhaps it was just she was afraid to show it as such personality traits will often get you no place in the real world. Perhaps Ginger was more centered and normal than she appeared. _

_At this point in my life though, I was admittedly not the best person to come to for consolation or reassurance. I told people how things were. It was my way. When Ginger said these almost self loathing things I tried to comfort her but my efforts were less than effective. "Well, you entertained people," I tried lamely._

"_Oh that was just for the moment," Ginger replied. "I mean really do something important. Like being a nurse," she conceded. "Oh although I was a nurse. For one day I was Ben Casey's nurse. And you know something professor," she said breaking off and catching my gaze. "In that __**one**__ hour, we saved six people. And if it hadn't been for the commercials, we would have saved eight!" _

_I knew of course this was meant to amuse me, but I felt instead I was just taken with her. She wasn't who I thought she was. She wasn't just a self absorbed Hollywood starlet only concerned with advancing her career. She wasn't just a beautiful woman capable of getting whatever she wanted. She was a caring individual, concerned with the welfare of others. It may have taken the end of the world to see it, but it was true enough. Beneath the make-up and sultry voice she was just a person like any other. And I knew I could tell her anything._

"_You're right Ginger," I said finally able to express myself to her. "That's what's important. Saving people. I should never have become a teacher. Should have gone on with my work in science. You know when I was in college, we were working on a vision problem encountered by Navy patrol fliers after they had spent several hours scanning the ocean and…"_

_I would have told her more, but at that moment I realized something and I broke off. Still, the longevity of the conversation was not what was important. Just the fact that I had told her one of my deepest regrets, not continuing my research, was indicative enough. I think for me, it was the beginning of truly falling for her. _

_While I had just started feeling deeply about Ginger at this moment, I was physically drawn to her always as evidenced by earlier statements. However, I get the feeling she didn't know because perhaps she perceived me artificially as I had once done to her. She probably thought of me as a purely scientific man. However I projected my feelings inadvertently to her often and I am surprised she didn't catch on. Especially after the mind reading incident._

_Gilligan had discovered a way to read minds or at least what he thought was reading minds. I was admittedly skeptical about the whole situation as I could not logically explain it. It did seem odd though that he seemed to know exactly what I was thinking from the atomic weight of aluminum to its symbol. Still I was convinced it was some sort of trick. I was in for a real surprise when Gilligan came back with Ginger claiming she had also acquired the skill. _

_The Skipper was seated at our dining table and I was nearby when Gilligan approached the captain. "Hey, hey Ginger can read minds just like me!" _

"_That's right," Ginger said, now walking up to the Skipper on the other side. "I can read minds just like Gilligan! Even if he doesn't think so," she said the 'he' with extra emphasis referring to me. _

_The Skipper smiled with just a hint of victory about him. We had always butted heads about magic and science. I suppose he thought this proved something. "And what does medical science think about that?" he said haughtily. _

"_Well, in order to justify such a fantastic claim, I would have to perform laboratory tests with strict controls," I said honestly. If this whole mind reading nonsense was real, surely it could stand the test of a few unbiased experiments. _

"_Oh never mind professor for goodness sakes," said a frustrated Skipper. I could understand his frustration some, but did he honestly expect me to believe such an outlandish claim without a little more proof? "I'll test her myself," he said, now turning towards her. "Now go ahead Ginger, start reading."_

_Ginger looked up as though she was thinking very hard. "Uh...thirty six...twenty two…thirty six," she said slowly as if it were scrolling by her on a teleprompter. Upon realization of what the Skipper was thinking about it she gave a few tisks as if pretending she disapproved_

_The Skipper smiled sheepishly. He had always been very fond of her. When he lost his memory he pursued her by – well fervent means. He stated numerous times how beautiful she was. I frankly wasn't surprised if he was always thinking about…well about her like that all the time. Of course after she said it, I could not help but let my mind wander some._

"_Oh well Ginger," the Skipper said beginning a very obvious lie. "I was trying to figure out the longitude and latitude of....this island." He knew the coordinates of this island and may I add even if he didn't those would be nowhere near. _

_Gilligan, bless him, ever honest blurted out, "Oh no you weren't Skipper! You were thinking about Ginger's – "_

"_Never mind Gilligan," Skipper cut him off, rather the obvious not be mentioned. He turned to me. "All right now. Professor you go ahead, you test her," he challenged._

_I was admittedly a little nervous because he had gotten me thinking about her. When she hadn't been looking I had let my eyes wander up and down her er…voluptuous stature. I was still convinced though, the evidence for this was circumstantial and Ginger would not be able to tell I was thinking about her rather exquisite measurements. _

"_All right Ginger, read my mind."_

_She didn't even hesitate this time. "Thirty six, twenty two, thirty six," she said with a smile._

_I was shocked. I tried to hide my embarrassment, "We - well that's just the atomic weight of sodium hydrochloride." That was a lie. Chlorine itself almost as much as 35.45, but I very much doubted anyone else knew that. _

_Even if Gilligan didn't know that – he called me out on it. "Oh no professor," Gilligan jumped on me. "You were thinking about Ginger's – "_

"_Never mind, Gilligan."_

_Perhaps she believed me though, because she seemed to think I wasn't interested her. I recall the Skipper confiding me about a moment they had with each other before he almost killed himself. Skipper had been teetering at the edge of a cliff, ready to end his life when Ginger streaked out and grabbed him, preventing him from going through with it. She had said something along the lines that she needed him there to which he reminded her there were three other gentlemen on the island to take care of her. Her response? "Gilligan is just a boy, Mr. Howell is a married man and the Professor – " he noted she hesitated substantially. "Is only interested in my mind!"_

_It seemed like a silly reason. Honestly, Mr. Howell being married was realistic and the fact that Gilligan was obviously too young for her seemed legitimate. For me though, all she could come up with was that I wasn't interested in her (which couldn't have been further from the truth). I think perhaps, and I don't mean to sound arrogant, but truthfully there were times when I thought she was feeling things for me too. _

_I noticed sometimes she'd just lean in closer to me every once in awhile. Once we caged what we thought was an ape man (when in reality he was just a ham of an actor researching a role). I asked Ginger to come with me to see if perhaps we could teach him to speak. We were strolling through the jungle together when we saw Gilligan communicating with him. As we watched in awe I noticed she leaned in slightly, our heads not even an inch apart. She was so close I could smell that flowery scent clinging to her body as tightly as the dresses she wore. _

_When the Howells were convinced they were no longer married followed by a bitter argument they both tried to make the other jealous. Ginger easily convinced Mr. Howell to be seen out with her and Mrs. Howell, strangely enough, chose me to enrage Mr. Howell. We sat at adjacent tables, practically shouting things we thought would infuriate the other side. It was getting nasty by the time we decided to get up and dance. It was rather lucky the Skipper finally did something to turn the tide, coming out dressed like a ruthless headhunter. Of course we expected the Howell's to reunite in fear, but I didn't expect Ginger to run to me. It was almost like we were reuniting as well after some quarrel. She pushed herself from Mr. Howell's arms into mine, which were open and awaiting her. In my mind it was highly indicative. _

_That was the first time I think, I had ever seen Ginger cozy up with Mr. Howell. I noticed she didn't do it much with men she thought wouldn't fall for it and Mr. Howell was terribly fond of Mrs. Howell. Perhaps she thought I was too perceptive to be taken in by her beguiling sultriness because she rarely used it on me (although she wouldn't have needed to). She did try and entice me once though. _

_She tried to distract me while she attached a fishing lure to an attaché case we found. I refused to let my fellow castaways open it but they were all extremely diligent. So she and Mary Ann schemed. Ginger would come in attach the line and Mary Ann would reel it away. That night, after I caught Gilligan and the Skipper trying to steal it, I picked up the bird cage that had formally been sitting on it and examined the bird inside. I inspected the specimen carefully I was satisfied it had been unharmed in the fall. I reached to replace it on the shelf. When I turned around and there she was, a vision of loveliness in an orange dress and long straight hair. _

"_Hi Professor," she said with that all-too-familiar breathiness I've come to know. _

"_Ginger!" I smiled in spite of myself because her presence in my hut had been a fantasy of mine for some time. I was still somewhat surprised by it though. "What are you doing up at this hour?"_

_She leaned her forearm against my chest and looked down innocently. "Oh you know, I couldn't sleep, and I was afraid of waking Mary Ann." She began moving her arm up to my shoulder and around my neck. "But then I saw that beautiful moon outside," she paused, capturing my gaze. "And I thought what a perfect night for romance." She emphasized the word 'perfect' leaning in just the slightest bit._

"_I don't want to doubt you, Ginger" and I honestly did not. I wanted to believe she had become so filled with desire for me she couldn't wait to see me, but I knew her routine all too well at this point. Ginger wanted something for me. "But uh could there be another reason you're here?"_

"_Well what other reason could there possibly be?" she asked innocently, shrugging her shoulders in the process. "Isn't it enough that I'm here? And you're here..."_

"_And the case is here?" I said with a slightly smug smile. _

"_And the case is here – " she hadn't quite realized what she said so she was still talking in that low heated voice. She then realized what I had done and gasped._

"_Professor," she said in that disapproving way of hers. "Why I'm shocked and surprised that you would suspect such a thing." I crossed my arms and continued to smile knowingly at her. "Why I'm – I'm overwrought! I'm overcome! I'm- I'm overwhelmed!" she said losing her cool and becoming slightly hysterical._

"_And you're overacting," I said taking her arm and leading her towards the door. Despite the fact that it turned out she was playing me for a fool, I couldn't help but notice how distraught she became when I wouldn't give into her. She had never been so upset when any of the others spurned her advances; surely she was used to it by now. So why had she reacted in such a way with me? I was beginning to hope she felt the same way I did. After all I was noticing little things between us all the time._

_This brings me to a final point. It is, without a doubt, the little things in life are truly what matter. Things that go by undetected that say a great deal about our character. There were so many moments when we hugged or laughed or exchanged glances. It soon just became those small, insignificant things that were all I was noticing. Sitting next to each other at dinner or searching together. Working together and smiling together. Once we even deceived together. We convinced the others that Ginger was an oracle of sorts to boost their morale. I asked her to give a false reading about a rescue ship and moments after she did, the radio confirmed her exact words. I remember being so happy I jumped up and ran to her, hugged her tightly, and basked in her warmth she exuded. _

_Another time, we tried to convince her to lure an ape away from Mrs. Howell with her feminine charms. As she stood there slightly petrified of the feral ape, I couldn't help myself in say, "Ginger, can you be a little sexier?"to which she responded vehemently. Still one might say it was a Freudian slip. My subconscious desire to see her – well I'm sure it's clear what I mean. _

_Even another time, after finding a jet pack, I was shocked to find Ginger kissing Gilligan deeply, and he seemed to be enjoying it (for once I might add). I couldn't stop myself from running over and demanding what was going on. As it turns out Mary Ann and she were trying to get Gilligan in the jet pack after he refused to fly to Hawaii. Even so, I can't even describe the jealousy I felt seeing them like that. Her seduction of other men began to do something to me. As was everything else she did. The way she laughed, and her smile. The way walked and talked. Everything to me was enamoring._

_As I said just little things. Each day, a touch or a 'hello' would make my heart flutter, something I could have never conceived possible. It was through a close observance of these little things that I have come to a conclusion. I have loved Ginger for as long as I have known her. Even though at times I doubted it or tried to escape it, it has always come back around for me. I know all too well that I will love her forever. Even if we remained marooned here for fifty years, I shall enjoy every moment. So long as I am with her. _

Ginger finished reading the chapter, but decided against reading the rest of the book. She was so touched and simultaneously so angry with herself, she was certain the tears were imminent. She closed the manuscript and placed it beside her on her bed, patting it a little as her hand remained on top of it. She was left with only her own thoughts now, to stew in her guilt and the horrible outcome of the day. Her loving husband wrote a book dedicated a book in her honor only to have her doubt his affection. Who could say where he was now or how he now felt about her. Meanwhile her pregnant best friend was somewhere on the island, heartbroken and crying in the dark while her confused and probably scared husband was mulling over the thought of being father. Ginger couldn't help but think that things could not possibly get worse.

She was so wrong.

….

To be continued…


	3. The Apple Never Falls Far

***Author's Note**: I apologize for taking so long with this chapter. It's not that I haven't had time, I just sort of got distracted with other things. Thank you to anyone who has reviewed – it really brightens my day and I hope you like (also I apologize for my inordinate use of commas…it's out of control!). Finally I made my first poll asking what the plot of my next GI fic should be. Please vote if you're interested :D

****Side Note:** I found this article which made me positively giddy. For some reason, fanfiction won't let me show a link, so if you're interested in seeing it let me know. Down towards the bottom you will find this sentence: _But Schwartz and his 92-year-old father always thought it would be the Professor with Ginger, kind of like Arthur Miller and Marilyn Monroe._ All I can say is "HELLZ YEAH!" It's nice to know that Schwartz was going in that direction, even if it never panned out.

Palms' Lullaby

**Chapter Three: **The Apple Never Falls Far

Gilligan tossed and turned in his sleep as his subconscious raged a war inside his head. Since Mary Ann's rather shocking news, a battalion of images assaulted the unconscious man's mind, leaving him in a deep but quite ironically exhausting sleep. Currently he lay in the bed he shared with Mary Ann, tossing and turning, uttering small yelps with occasional flailing of his arms. He had just begun to lie still when a new nightmare dawned on him.

_Gilligan was sure he was finally going to get some rest. The clouds seemed to have parted and sunshine leaked through illuminating a small house in the distance giving it an almost divine aura. Gilligan was drawn to it like a mosquito to the light. His white sneakers tramped through the hillside of poppies and petunias, giving off an aroma that seemed to loosen every knot in his back. His mind became at ease as he approached the ethereal building, a calm washing over him completely. The dew that clung to his cotton shoes didn't bother him, nor the bee whizzing by his ear. All he could feel was the warmth of the sunlight and the soft breeze that gently kissed his cheek._

_As Gilligan got closer, he got the feeling, in actuality he wasn't getting any closer at all. The house seemed to remain the same size and he was certain he was even beginning to see the same flowers. He imagined himself to be on some sort of conveyer belt that kept him in the same place forever. When he stopped though, he did not move along with the imaginary belt in his mind. This should have bothered the first mate, but he could not bring himself to worry. He'd get there eventually. _

_As he took a few more carefree strides, and all at once, he seemed to be approaching the building at a quickened pace; it almost raced towards him with every step. In a moment, before he knew it, Gilligan stood two feet from the front door of building, with no knowledge of how he had gotten there so fast (especially since he seemed to be going nowhere for eternity). The suddenness of the whole situation caught him off guard. He tumbled into the grass, putting up his hands to block himself from the house he was sure would run him over. _

_As he lay in that abnormally green grass, he dared to open one eye. He didn't think he had been crushed by the speeding house. He was certain it would hurt, a least a little. He sat up and took in his surroundings. On one side, the endless expanse of meadow he had just traveled in about five seconds. On the other, a three story – shoe?! Gilligan rubbed his eyes, unable to understand what his mind had told him he'd seen. He blinked a few times, starring up in awe in the image that was still there._

_He hadn't been able to tell from afar, but there was no mistaking it now. The house was a gigantic shoe. It looked to Gilligan to be a big brown boot, a black rubber sole on the bottom, and a big gray patch on the toe. It even had shoelaces as thick as salamis. In fact, it looked just like an ordinary shoe, with the exception that it was at least ten times as large. Gilligan could only just stare. He wasn't sure what to make of the house/footwear. He tentatively got to his feet, still not taking his eyes off the shoe. He inched closer, ever so slightly, for fear the shoe-shaped house was going to attack again. It remained still as he examined it further._

_He decided to be brave and slowly reached out his hand. His fingers were just hovering over the great big gray patch. He was just about to press the pads of his fingers to the shoe when a voice startled him._

_"Gilligan!" _

_Gilligan must have jumped five feet in the air. He saw the world roll around and do somersaults before he landed, hard, on his back starring up at the great blue expanse above. Gilligan's initial thought was the shoe had spoken to him. Perhaps it was giving him a warning not to touch it. If so, how did it know his name?_

_Still Gilligan couldn't but think the voice had not come from the boot. After all, the voice was high, lilting, feminine. If that boot should have a voice he imagined it would sound like Sidney Poitier. Something deep and manly. If it were a high heel shoe, that would be different. But this house was a boot, and a boot definitely could not sound like that._

_Gilligan was right about one thing. The voice had not come from the boot. While his thoughts were far gone, he remained spread eagle on his back. All of a sudden a small figure of a woman popped into his field of vision, and he relaxed instantly._

_"Mary Ann!" he said happily, sitting up to face her. Mary Ann didn't look nearly as happy to see him._

_"Gilligan!" she scolded, waving a wooden spoon at him. "What on Earth are you doing out here! You're going to be late for work!" _

_"Work?" questioned the first mate. He scratched his head. The last time he had a 'job' was working for the Skipper on the S.S. Minnow, which had long since disintegrated. Since then he needn't be anywhere on time. "What work?"_

_"Honestly Gilligan," sighed an exasperated Mary Ann pulling him to his feet by his shirt collar. "Only you could forget about your own career," she began dusting off the front of his shirt, which he now just realized was white and a button down. "I suppose you forgot about the hungry mouths we have to feed, too?" _

_"Mouths?" Gilligan inquired. Since when did they have multiple mouths to feed? Gilligan then thought Mary Ann must have meant the others. But they were perfectly capable of feeding themselves, last he checked. _

_"Mary Ann, Skipper and Ginger and the others don't need us to feed them," he said reasonably. _

_Mary Ann looked up from her dusting and gave Gilligan a look of complete bewilderment. "Skipper? Gin – Oh Gilligan, you're delusional. We haven't seen Ginger and the Professor for years. Don't you remember they moved to California when a big shot producer turned his book into a movie for her?"_

_"Californ – Mary Ann, **you're** delusional. We haven't seen **America **in years. We were all stranded on a desert island, remember, silly?" He mimed knocking on her head as though there was nothing in it. Mary Ann folded her arms. _

_"Oh Gilligan, I don't have time for this nonsense about desert islands. I have breakfast waiting on the table, now hurry up and eat." She waved him along with her spoon. _

_"Ok," Gilligan said obediently. He began to walk towards the massive shoe, while Mary Ann followed in tow. He was trying desperately to understand what was happening. If Ginger and the Professor were never stranded with them…how did Mary Ann know them? _

_"Mary Ann?" Gilligan turned around abruptly causing Mary Ann smack into his back._

_"Oh Gilligan! What now!" thundered the normally quiet, calm and shy farm girl. _

_"How do we know Ginger and the Professor, if we weren't stranded with them?" Gilligan countered. "Explain that!" he said triumphantly. _

_"You know perfectly well, we met the Hinkleys at a Christmas party, fifteen years ago," Mary Ann said without hesitation. _

_"Christmas Party?" he repeated, softly, to himself. Mary Ann had heard him though and quickly interrupted his racing thoughts._

_"Yes, and to get it out of the way, are there any more questions before your eggs are stone cold?" she said bitterly, with her hands on her hips. _

_"Just one," Gilligan replied. "Where are the Howells and Skipper?" He glanced around as if he might spot them somewhere among the poppies. He looked back at Mary Ann to see her soured expression turn soft. She looked deeply into his eyes with a mixture of pity and heartbreak. _

_"Oh Gilligan," she said reaching up to touch his face. Gilligan didn't like the way she said it. It was that way she used to explain things that were hard for him to understand. She used it on their wedding night and was THAT a shock!_

_"What?" he said taking the hand on his face in his own. "What is it?" he persisted. _

_"Gilligan…" she looked down, unable to meet his eyes. "They're dead." _

_Gilligan's heart must have stopped for a second, he was sure of it. He wasn't sure he could comprehend the meaning of those two words together like that. 'Dead' was one thing, and 'they're' another. How could anyone make those two things into a sentence? It was such a short sentence, too. Perhaps that's why it had such potency. _

_"Mary Ann – " he got a very far away look about him. "You're wrong," he said, trying to smile. His denial began to fail him though as he imagined his best friend in the world, that lovable captain, in a box, underground somewhere, cold and alone. _

_"No, no, no, I saw them yesterday at breakfast," but it was a question, not a statement. _

_"No Gilligan," Mary Ann said softly. "You didn't." _

_"I did! I did! I know I did!" he insisted. "Sure, sure! You told me we had to go for a walk, and I said I wanted to finish my breakfast and –and they were sitting right there, and…and then – " _

_"Gilligan?" Mary Ann interrupted his run on. "Let's go in the house. You need to eat. I'll call the office and tell them you're not well." She smiled gently and took his hand. Gilligan was too numb to respond to her kindness. He followed her silently. All he could do was try to fathom how he could not know his big buddy, his own best friend, was dead and he didn't know it. And the Howells too! Who had always treated him like their son (sometimes their estranged son). How could they not be around to make their silly jokes and order everyone about? Gilligan began to feel sick. He felt even sicker when he stepped through the front door of 'his' house (or boot.)._

_It was all one room with stairs going who knows where. The kitchen area was closest to him, a small stove, a refrigerator and some counter space all against the left wall. In front of him was the dining area which phased into the living room, consisting of one rather beat up couch and a small 15 inch TV. There were toys strewn all across the floor, dolls and toy soldiers, small instruments and toy cars, as far as the eye could see. In the kitchen the table had at least twelve seats, each with a place sitting. The refrigerator was covered completely with childish drawings, completely obscuring the appliance. Gilligan had never seen such a chaotic looking room. _

_"Ma – Mary Ann? What is - ?" he was having trouble finding any words at all, he was lucky he even got that much. _

_"Now don't you worry about that," Mary Ann said pushing him down into the nearest chair. "I've been telling them to clean up this mess for days." She made her way towards the stove and pulled off a frying pan full of eggs. "Honestly, they treat this house like a pigsty!" She looked mildly upset, but noticed the look of inquiry on Gilligan's face and softened. _

_"Don't worry about it though. Just eat and relax, honey," she said spooning some eggs onto his plate. It wasn't much. Barely a spoonful of an otherwise overflowing pan of eggs._

_"That's all?" he choked out. "That one little bit?" _

_"Gilligan, you know it has to go around," Mary Ann rolled her eyes, but maintained a smile as if he were making a bad joke. She patted him on the shoulder and said, "Enjoy." Gilligan frowned at the measly morsel in front of him. Who could Mary Ann be saving all those eggs for? _

_He stabbed his fork into the eggs and began to bring them up to his mouth when Mary Ann let out a cacophonous sound, causing him to jump and the eggs to fall back to the plate. "KIDS!! BREAKFAST IS READY!" She shrieked up the stairs. _

_Gilligan immediately forgot about the Skipper being dead, the gigantic boot, and even the horrendous sound coming from Mary Ann when he heard the word 'kids'. Before he could reason any explanation, a sound like that of a stampede rumbled from above. The floor shook. The lights flickered. Gilligan was certain a hoard of rhinos were tromping down the stairs it was so loud._

_In a moments time the room flooded up with children of all ages, tall ones, short ones, boys and girls all gathered around the table, talking loudly and paying no attention to the very frightened Gilligan cowering in his seat. Mary Ann placed the pan of eggs on the table and it disappeared before anyone could blink. Gilligan sat back in his seat watching them all eat, flabbergasted. He was so taken aback he almost didn't notice a small hand pulling at the bottom of his shirt. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he finally felt it. He peered down to see the source of his fright was nothing more than a little girl._

_She was the smallest of the group, he guessed no older than four years old. She had very dark hair that was pulled into two pigtails, much like that of Mary Ann's younger self. She had the biggest chocolate brown eyes he had ever seen. "Daddy?" she said._

_Gilligan let out a choked gasp. "Huh?" he managed to get out._

_"Daddy," she repeated. "I didn't get any," she lamented, grabbing the bottom of her red gingham dress. She looked like she was about to cry. _

_At this Gilligan softened. "O-Oh…" he said. He looked at the pan. It was completely empty. Then he shifted his gaze to the eggs on his own plate and heaved a heavy sigh. He picked it up and lowered it to her. "You can have mine," he offered, giving her the littlest smile. She took the plate and rewarded him with a dazzling grin. _

_"Thank you," she said sweetly. She then placed the plate on the chair and proceeded to crawl in his lap. Gilligan was so out of his element, he wasn't sure what to do. She didn't seem to notice his discomfort, and grabbed the plate and put it back in her lap. She picked up a fork and said, "Some for me," before pushing some eggs into her mouth. She then dipped her fork back in and held them up to Gilligan's chin. "And some for Daddy." _

_Gilligan hesitated. He was reeling from emotions he never felt before. He was overcome with the sweetness of the child, but was equally tentative as he had never ever been a figure of authority. He ate the eggs she held up to him (they were delicious!) and gave her a, "Heh, thanks," accompanied by a smile. _

_"Oh Lilly! Don't bother Daddy, he doesn't feel well!" Mary Ann came over and promptly scooped up the child. Lilly peered over her mother's shoulder and gave her father a wave good bye. Gilligan couldn't help but grin. **Lilly,** he thought. **Like a flower. Lilly Gilligan. **_

_Before he could ruminate further, a much older boy quickly came into his view. Gilligan guessed he was in his late teens, and he strongly resembled himself._

_"Hey Dad, can I borrow the car tonight? I have a date," he explained. _

_"UH –" before he could register he even had a car to borrow, his thought was interrupted by a girl, probably eleven or twelve, with Mary Ann's dark eyes and hair. _

_"Daddy, I have a project for school that's due tomorrow. Will you help me?" Gilligan opened his mouth, though he wasn't exactly sure how he was going to respond when a much older girl, probably sixteen, stepped between them. _

_"Dad, Gaby took my shirt again without asking me. Tell her to give it back!" A girl only a year or two younger pushed her aside._

_"But she never even wears it!" the girl whined. Gilligan did not even have time to see the shirt in question. Another hand shot out and grabbed his pant leg. _

_"Daddy!" sobbed a boy of about six. "Daddy," he sniffed as tears began to well up his azure eyes, "I got a boo-boo!" he wailed. "DAAAAAAAAAADDDDDYYYY!" _

_Gilligan's head was swimming. He could barely see anymore, all he could hear were requests, all beginning with some form of 'dad'. 'Dad can I borrow some money? Me and the guys are going to the movies tonight?' and 'Daddy I don't LIKE these eggs!' and 'Dad, she pushed me!" Gilligan's blurry vision began to turn black and he felt himself falling backwards. He tried to move a foot back to catch himself but it seemed to go right through the floor. The noises continued to surround him, but now they had different voices, some of which he recognized, some he didn't._

_"Your son is failing. If he doesn't pass this class, he's going to have to repeat the year."_

_"Billy crashed the car again, Gilligan. Our insurance has skyrocketed. Please talk to him."_

_"We found this in Jill's locker. You are aware it is illegal, aren't you?"_

_"Lilly never came home from school!"_

_"What kind of household are you running?"_

_"We're going to have to let you go, Mr. Gilligan."_

_"She didn't make it through the night, Mr. Gilligan…I'm so sorry."_

"!!" Gilligan woke himself with the sound of his own terrified screaming. If anyone had been around, they would have heard him, but unfortunately, they were still all out looking for Mary Ann. Gilligan stopped screaming when he realized he was still in his own hut. He patted himself all around, ensuring himself that he was really experiencing this and it wasn't just another terrible dream. He breathed a sigh of relief and let his head fall back on the pillow. He lay there for several minutes just trying to breathe normally.

He finally sat up and decided he would go for a walk to clear his head. He always wandered off on his own when he had a lot on his mind. He grabbed his hat and pulled it down over his ears before walking out into the crisp, night air. He breathed in the scent of tropical fruit and he immediately felt some of his burden fall. He made his way into the foliage and felt his tension drip off his body like melted butter. Gilligan wasn't sure how long he would walk through the forest that night, all he knew was the more he walked, the better he felt. Yet still, those haunting voices would never leave him. He suspected that they would return again to claim him in the night once more. He tried his best not to think about it.

…

The Professor wasn't exactly sure where he was going, not that he much cared. The only thing he wanted to do was get the scene that just took place out of his mind. It kept replaying over and over again in his head; that look she had when he called her a harlot. He had seen many faces of Ginger Grant; she was after all, an accomplished actress. He had seen her get upset when he rebuffed her advances (of course, he was in possession of a mysterious briefcase at the time so he was pretty sure that's what she really wanted to get her hands on). He had seen her scandalized when she thought "spelunking" was a dirty word. He had seen her absolutely broken the night her Broadway show went on without her. Or the night Harold Hecuba crushed her dreams under the heel of his five hundred dollar designer boot. Or the day Eva Grubb left them and decided to take up Ginger's place in Hollywood. Yet he had never seen her look all three. The anger that flickered in her eyes rivaled that of an active volcano. Those green emeralds he had come to love so very much were shining from the freshness of stifled tears. Her mouth was pulled it to a straight, tight line trying to suppress a scream – or was it sobs? He didn't know. The only thing he did know was that he _never _wanted to see her like that again.

He was so distraught he barely saw the young brunette sitting on a fallen tree branch, crying into her dress. He almost passed her completely and she almost didn't notice him go by. They both stopped at the same time and turned to look at each other.

"M-Mary Ann? Is that really you?" he gawked. She was sitting in plain sight. How could they not have seen her until now? He felt a little better when he realized she had been probably hiding from them the whole time and had come into the open just now.

"Yes," she sniffed, dabbing her eyes with the bottom of her dress. "Yes it's me."

"Oh thank heavens," he said, breathing a deep sigh of relief. He made his way over to the fallen tree she was sitting on. He approached cautiously as he wasn't sure if Mary Ann was due already for another violent mood swing. He got within a few feet, but she didn't even acknowledge him. He took a few steps closer and he saw her turn her head. She didn't glare, she merely looked tired and she turned her head away again. She didn't tell him not to, so he figured it was all right to sit down.

"Uh Mary Ann," he said tentatively. He reached out one hand for Mary Ann's shoulder. In his psychology classes in college he remembered his professor saying how people in need yearn for some kind of physical contact, so he did his best. "Would you maybe like to come back and sleep in your own hut – "

"No!" she interrupted and wrenched her shoulder away. The Professor sat back quickly and decided it was best to give her some space instead.

"I don't ever want to go back!" she added and turned her whole body away. The Professor knew full well it was the hormones reacting this way, but he tried reasoning with her nevertheless.

"Mary Ann, you can't live out here all alone. What will you do for food?"

"I don't know," she said after a pause. "And I don't care!" she insisted, folding her arms. "I don't ever want to see that man again," she said in a slightly more calm voice. She put her nose in the air and gave a little sniff to signal her distain for her husband right now.

"Mary Ann, you're just upset," the Professor persisted in a steady, even tone. "Gilligan will come around eventually. He loves you."

Mary Ann whirled on him, a new emotional wave crashing down on her. "But I don't want him to come around!" she cried. "For once I want him to be on board with something from the start. That's always how it is for us! Always! I always have to coax and convince and persuade him to do anything. 'Gilligan, maybe we could – '" she began in her normal voice. "'No way, Mary Ann!' Who would ever want to do a thing like that!'" she said in mock of Gilligan. "I want him to want this baby, not tolerate it, not _come around_ to it," she looked back at her hands, the wave returning back to sea. "I just want him to – to want what I want. Is that really asking so much?"

"No, of course not Mary Ann. That is a reasonable request. However, Gilligan is unable to control what he does and doesn't want. Such things are intrinsic and unique to each human being. Even though Gilligan disagrees or resists your own desires sometimes doesn't mean he can't grow to want them as well."

"If he loved me, he would be able to," Mary Ann said sadly, before blowing her nose loudly into the bottom of her dress. "If he loved me, he'd understand why I was upset."

The Professor smiled at her. "He does, he just expresses it differently. Mary Ann, surely you know that?" Mary Ann just sniffled in response. It was obvious right now she needed to be told how much she was loved. "Gilligan is a rare specimen of person who chooses to express himself emotionally through more than mere physicality. Every day when he and the Skipper are out doing chores, I know he always picks a flower for you and remarks 'it's pretty, but not as pretty as her." When you've had a hard day, Gilligan tells everyone to say something kind about your appearance."

Mary Ann looked up as though she were mildly interested, but still needed further explanations. "He told me on your wedding night, after you ran away, that he would do anything if you would only take him back. I assure you, Gilligan loves you, but he has trouble communicating it directly to you. He is shy and easily embarrassed by such things. He'd rather make you happy without you even knowing it than be open with it. Perhaps he doesn't want to be scrutinized. Or maybe he just doesn't think he's doing enough. Regardless, Gilligan's aversion to your advances or your wants is not a reflection of what he thinks of you, but what he thinks of himself. He is probably filled with insecurities right now about being a father and being responsible for another human being's life. That is why he reacted in such a way. It has nothing to do with him not loving you, or not loving the baby. After all, before you found out about it you were rather worried yourself. You were nervous and scared about what it would be like. It's the same thing for him. Once he has held the child in his arms, he will love it as much as you do. You must understand the maternal instinct develops sooner than that of the paternal. Give him time, I promise he will surprise you."

As the Professor spoke he couldn't help but feeling he'd like his own children. He had never really considered children much in his early life. He was fairly certain he'd be in a laboratory fourteen hours a day and unable to give a child the proper care and attention it truly deserved from a father. He didn't dislike children either; he was a teacher for a reason! The Professor began to feel now that he had all the time in the world, perhaps he would very much like being a dad. In his mind he saw a little boy on a rock reading from a textbook. He saw himself teaching that same boy about the various flora in the jungle. He saw the boy age and he was soon writing a paper and asking a much older version of the Professor to look it over. The Professor began to get so wrapped in reverie he almost forgot about Mary Ann.

"It's easy for you to say," Mary Ann said, though she was now even smiling a bit. "You have Ginger. She's always showing you how much she loves you," she said resting her palms in her hands. The Professor hadn't meant to do so, but his current frustration with his wife allowed him to let out a disgruntled sound.

"What?" Mary Ann said raising her head. The Professor looked mildly anxious as he did not want to turn conversation on himself.

"What? Oh nothing, nothing," he said trying to dismiss the topic.

"No, no, no, it's something. Tell me," she insisted. "The least I can do is try to help you as you've helped me."

The Professor looked around uneasily. "Well," he said. "I suppose. Ginger and I had a fight just now, and I – lost my temper a little bit and said things I shouldn't have." He put his face in his hands.

"What was the fight about?" Mary Ann inquired.

"That's the odd thing," he said looking up at her. "It was about you!"

"About me?" Mary Ann was baffled. "Well what could I possibly have to do with anything?"

The Professor sighed. "She has this ridiculous notion we're – " he turned his head away, not sure how he should put it. "That we're…involved, or something."

Mary Ann sat back with brow furrowed. "Wha –" she gawked. "I don't understand. Why would she think a thing like that? I mean I've never – and you've never –" Mary Ann was genuinely puzzled, unable to complete a single sentence. Since Mary Ann had known him, he had never shown any romantic interest in her, with the exception of when everyone though Mary Ann's boyfriend had married someone else. He, the Skipper and Gilligan pretended to court her to make her 'feel better' about him but Mary Ann was just relieved she hadn't eaten any poisonous mushrooms in the end. Ginger on the other hand – well - while Mary Ann didn't know how long the Professor had feelings for Ginger, she had suspected it since the two shared that minute long lip lock in their silent movie.

"I know, I know," the Professor sighed. "I don't understand it either. I mean I've never given her a reason to doubt me. I've never even _looked _at another woman. Since the first time I saw her, it's only ever been her…" he drifted off trying to recall the first time he had seen her.

It was his last day in America, the day he took a three hour tour that lasted five years and counting. He was visiting Hawaii to do a little research on a book he was writing, _Fun with Ferns. _He was running a little late for the boat ride, and was the last of the five passengers to arrive. He remembered he was so looking forward to working on his book he didn't even notice the gorgeous red head he sat down next to. It wasn't until he heard her high, lilting giggles that he raised his head to look at her.

"When I did I was immediately dumbstruck. The first thing I really noticed about her was those emerald eyes," he voiced aloud though he hadn't meant to. "The color of ferns in the morning dew. And her hair caught the Hawaiian sun like a stained glass window. She was…exquisite." Mary Ann watched him silently. She noted how genuine he sounded when he talked about her. _Honestly, _Mary Ann thought. _How could Ginger think he'd be untrue? _

"You should tell her that, Professor. I bet she'd like to hear it," said a starry eyed Mary Ann.

His far off look evaporated when she spoke. He looked a little humbled and embarrassed, realizing for the first time she had been listening. "Oh no, no, no. I already tried it. She won't listen to reason. She thinks she heard something and nothing I can say will change it."

"What does she think she heard?" Mary Ann questioned.

"It must have been when you were visiting me for your check-ups. You know how we were talking about keeping secrets and I mentioned the book and how you were in it. Oh I suppose I can see where she might have gotten the idea, but honestly. She should have realized what was going on at breakfast today."

"Well maybe, but once a woman has gotten something in her head, it's hard to make her forget it." Although she had not explicitly said so, the Professor had an inkling that she may have even been referring to herself and the way she had envisioned her perfect parenthood conversation with Gilligan. She had some lingering regret in her voice that said to him she still hadn't completely forgotten about it. This sentiment though must not have lasted long though; he was caught off guard when she suddenly grabbed his arm.

"Gee Professor, why don't you just show her the book?" Mary Ann said alight. "That clearly explains everything!"

The Professor kicked at the sand and starred forlornly at the scattering particles. "I did," he said softly.

"And she still doesn't believe you?" Mary Ann asked incredulously.

"I don't know," began the Professor as he crossed her arms. "I left before she read it."

"Well why'd you do that?"

"She told me to," he said plainly. He sighed and put a hand to his brow. Mary Ann could tell how much he was hurting.

"Why did she do that?" she inquired gently.

"Because of what I said. I didn't mean it, I just lost my temper. I was just so upset about how sure she seemed about the whole thing, I wanted to hurt her, like she hurt me."

"Professor," Mary Ann began cautiously. "What _exactly _did you say to her?"

The Professor looked back her, with a look that echoed a child who took the last cookie from the cookie jar. Utterly guilty and remorseful he barely whispered, "I called her a harlot."

"Professor!" Mary Ann was scandalized. "How could you say such a thing?"

This was the wrong thing to say. The Professor suddenly rose from his seat and threw his hands in the air. "I know! I know!" he fumed. He was now pacing, his fists clenching. "I told you I didn't mean it!" a surge of anger rose in him like a geyser; he didn't Mary Ann pointing out the obvious.

"I'm sorry, Professor. Really, I am," Mary Ann said placing her hand on his arm. Mary Ann knew this anger was probably directed at himself and not at her, but she thought it best to apologize anyway. She held his gaze steadily as his anger seemed to slowly dissipate.

"There I go again," he lamented as the both took a seat again. "I'm sorry Mary Ann, I know you're just trying to help."

"I understand. But once Ginger reads that book, I know she'll come to you," Mary Ann said reassuringly.

"Well she hasn't yet," the Professor looked in the direction of his hut, half hoping she'd come through the jungle leaves, arms open, kisses waiting. She would apologize for her wrongful accusation and he would apologize for his insensitive remarks. All would be forgiven and they'd share in blissful harmony of their rekindled love. However, his eyes showed him the truth. All he could see was the jungle growth and the intense darkness of the sky. There was almost no moon tonight and even the stars seemed shy.

"Professor, give her time – remember? Like you told me?" Mary Ann reminded, smiling.

"Yes I should follow my own advice," he even smiled some at this.

"Ginger loves you, Professor. She's just afraid of losing you. I think it's because, well, because Ginger has always claimed to be most accomplished at – " Mary Ann tried to think of phasing her next thought. "Charming men," she conceded. "If she lost the one man she truly, truly cares about, imagine how devastating that would be for her. The one thing she's always done well and when it truly matters – it fails her. It's gotta be an awful feeling," Mary Ann said shaking her head.

"I know," he said. "I just don't know how she could think she would ever lose me. A woman like that –" he gestured to the air, as if she were standing right there in front of him. "Oh I don't even understand what she sees in me anyway."

Several steps away, Gilligan was stumbling through the jungle forest. After he had been walking for near an hour, Gilligan decided he needed to take a break. Gilligan had focused a lot of his energy on not focusing (except on walking) and he was now mentally and physically spent. He saw a tall tree that he thought he should like to rest in it for awhile. Being the agile, young man that he was, he easily climbed into its branches and settled himself on the longest one. He lay on his stomach and rested his head in his arms. He didn't realize as he lay in that tree, his wife was nearby having an intimate conversation with the island's resident genius. Gilligan had just put his head down to relax some when he heard Mary Ann's voice a few paces away.

"Professor, how could you say that? You're the smartest man I've ever met! You're kind and helpful," she said in a soothing voice. Despite her delicate demeanor it seemed to be a useless gesture. The Professor knew he was kind and helpful. He definitely knew he was smart. Mary Ann decided she ought go another route. "And handsome," assured Mary Ann. She decided to return the favor he had done for her a few years ago, standing up for her when she was seemingly the only unbeautiful castaway on the whole island.

The effect was immediate. The Professor raised his eyebrows ever so slightly to tell Mary Ann he was listening. Mary Ann guessed that was something the Professor would be insecure about; especially being married to a beautiful, sexy starlet most men could only dream about. It was only natural he would need to be reassured about his appearance. But Mary Ann's compliment had not only permeated the Professor's attitude. As soon as the word left her lips, it slowly drifted up to where a worn out seaman lay a few feet away. Gilligan picked up his head when he heard it. The first he thing he could think of was, _Is that Mary Ann?_ Mary Ann never called him handsome. Mary Ann called him 'adorable' and 'sweet' and 'cute'. Words which you usually describe a teddy bear. _Handsome? _Her voice saying it sounded foreign to him. He was now fully alert, his awful dreams disappearing from his mind completely.

"Why, any woman would be lucky to have you," Mary Ann furthered.

"Thank you, Mary Ann," the Professor returned. "That means a lot coming from someone as kind and helpful as yourself."

"Professor, we would have never gotten by on this island without everything you've done."

"Mary Ann, please," the Professor said, sounding embarrassed. Gilligan crawled further out on the branch to see if he could see what was going. He definitely didn't like where this conversation was going.

"I just don't want you think that you're a bad person because of this." She was referring to what he had called Ginger, but this was not obvious to the young man clinging to the tree branch. "I understand what you might be feeling – because I feel it too." Gilligan was beginning to think he should not be overhearing this conversation, yet he could not bring himself to stop listening though. He wanted to know whatever it was they were both feeling. "But we shouldn't! It's no one fault this happened."

Gilligan furrowed his brows. _What is Mary Ann talking about? This happened? What happened? _He edged a little closer to try and catch a glimpse of the two castaways because they were no longer talking. He pushed away a few leaves to find Mary Ann and the Professor – hugging! He didn't know it was a comforting, 'I'm sorry, I understand how you're feeling' hug. All he knew was when Mary Ann began hugging him, that's how she expressed her feelings for him. That was the only romantic gesture either was capable of at the beginning of their romance and it was always the most treasured in Gilligan's mind. Mary Ann's hugs were warm and safe and a place for him to seek solace when things were getting to him. He couldn't imagine another man being in her arms in that way. He felt even worse than he had before, tossing and turning in his nightmarish hell.

The two pulled out the hug and smiled at each other. No sooner than they did, did the hear rustling in the leaves above. In an effort to get closer, Gilligan inched his way up the branch towards the two people below. He had just gotten them in his sight when he began to teeter dangerously on the extended branch. He instantly grabbed hold, but his unbalanced weight swung him over the side. He was unable to regain himself and was now hanging from the outstretched branch both hands and legs wrapped around it, his back facing the sand below. As he clung for his life, he noticed he was now in full view, despite his best efforts.

"Gilligan!" Mary Ann was now standing up and had her hands on her hips. "What are you doing up there?!" she sounded as though she were scolding him.

"Nothing!' he said defensively. "Just – hangin' around," he said as he tried to tighten his grasp of the branch.

"You were spying on us!" she accused. "Weren't you?!" she demanded when the struggling man had not yet answered her.

"Not on purpose!" he said truthfully. "I just came up here to think a little bit. It wasn't my fault you just happened to be here too!"

"Oh Gilligan, don't lie to me," she said approaching him, one finger wagging disapprovingly at him.

"I'm not, I swear!" his honesty being reproached awoke a stirring in the sailor's heart. "And what are you angry at me for, anyway?" he countered. "You're the one hugging and being all cozy with him!" Gilligan pointed an accusatory finger at the Professor who held his hands up in defense. However, Gilligan did not continue to criticize as he realized he needed his other arm to remain attached to the branch. "I'm the one who should be upset, not you!" he said through gritted teeth, struggling to get his arm back around.

"Oh Gilligan," said an exasperated Mary Ann. "Of all the craz – he and Ginger just had a fight," she explained, gesturing to him. The Professor backed up a little, not wanting any part in this. _This is all I needed,_ a voice in his head mocked. _Now Gilligan will tell Ginger he saw me embracing Mary Ann and she'll never trust me again. _

"I wonder why?" Gilligan said an unusually sarcastic. "She probably saw it too!"

"No, no, no, Gilligan! This is mistake!" Mary Ann put her hands up to try to quell the imminent argument.

"I'll say it is!" He retorted, grasping the branch tighter. A small utterance of protest from the branch alerted the Professor to a crack at the base of the branch, probably as a result of Gilligan's extra weight (though it wasn't all that much). The Professor concluded this branch must have already been cracked and Gilligan was not helping it any. He thought it best for the two to work this out on the ground.

"Uh Gilligan," the Professor interjected. "Why don't you come down here and we'll talk all this out," he said in a calming tone. Gilligan, however, did not seem eased by the voice of reason.

"I will not come down!" he protested.

"Gilligan, you don't understand. That branch – "

"I said I'm not coming down!" the first mate said stubbornly. "I'm not coming down, I'm not coming down, nothing you can do can make me – " Gilligan's obdurate protests were silence by the horrible cracking sound of the branch breaking. In the blink of an eye, the colossal tree branch was plummeting towards the ground with Gilligan still attached, and Mary Ann underneath. The Professor had no time to react. In a whirlwind of shouts and shrieks, his vision was blurred and his reflexes halted. In a few seconds it all over. The branch now lay over Gilligan's body long ways, pinning his left shoulder and leg under it. The branch was also draped across Mary Ann's stomach. Both had their eyes closed. The Professor feared the worse as he raced over to the pummeled castaways.

The Professor heaved with all his might, but the branch would not move. He hadn't realized how heavy it would be. While it only fell nine or ten feet at most, its mass alone was enough to cause some serious harm. He was about to run for help when he heard Mary Ann stirring. She began to move her head and let out a small whimpering sound. The Professor quickly got to his knees and noticed, much to his relief, she was breathing – somewhat irregularly, but breathing.

"Mary Ann, Mary Ann! Are you ok?" Mary Ann slowly opened her eyes and began looking around. She tried to put her hands on the ground and push herself up off the gravel and sand. She was almost all the way up when her tired, frail arms gave up and let her fall back towards the ground. The Professor caught her before she allowed herself to hit the sand.

"Mary Ann?" he questioned. She looked up at him her eyelids feeling heavy.

"Wha – Oh I'm all right," she said sleepily. "I just – I feel so tired and I'm – " she inhaled deeply but only managed to get a shallow breath of air. "Having some trouble breathing," she managed. She put a hand to her chest and tried taking a few more shaky breaths.

"You've had the wind knocked out of you. When there is a large amount of pressure is applied to the diaphragm it causes a spasm that temporarily paralyzes it, making it difficult to breathe for a time."

"Oh that's nice," she was losing consciousness again.

"Mary Ann, don't move and try to stay awake please. I need to find someone to help me lift this branch. I'll be right back." He began to get up and turned back towards her, "Remember don't move," he pointed a finger at her.

"Ok Professor," she sounded somewhat sedated and the Professor realized she probably would have agreed to skydiving if he'd asked her to. Without another word he sped off towards the huts in search of the Skipper.

"Gilligan," Mary Ann whispered. "Gilligan, are you all right?" He didn't answer her. Mary Ann turned her head slowly to see his right arm and leg splayed out on the floor, while his left limbs were completely obscured by the tree branch. His eyes were closed and she noticed he had a bleeding cut right above his left eye.

"Oh Gilligan," Mary tried desperately, reaching out for his right hand with her own. "Gilligan, please speak to me."

Gilligan let out a deplorable sound and moved his head slightly from side to side. Mary Ann brought her other hand to her heart and breathed a sigh of relief. _Oh thank god,_ she thought. As he opened his eyes Mary Ann leaned her torso towards him. She was able to her head on his shoulder, but that was as far as her body would let her go. It didn't matter though, it was the perfect position for the two to stare into each other's eyes and reconcile.

"Mary Ann," he looked humbled and grief stricken. His doubtfulness and suspicion were chased away when he saw his wife, his first and only love, pinned beneath a massive tree limb, looking at him the way she was now.

"Gilligan," her voice broke a little trying to say his name.

"I'm sorry, Mary Ann. I know I messed up again," he murmured.

"No Gilligan, we both messed up," she said trying to smile. "I shouldn't have gotten so upset today. I just wanted things to be perfect."

"I know, Mary Ann. I know all that. I guess if I had known how important it was I would have listened," he said truthfully. "But then again – if I known, you wouldn't have needed to tell me!"

"It doesn't matter now Gilligan," she said letting go of his right hand and bringing it up to his face. "All that matters now is that you're safe, and I'm safe and the baby's – "

At that both Mary Ann and Gilligan's eyes opened widely. "THE BABY!" the both exclaimed together. Mary Ann's already shallow breathing got worse as she desperately tried to push the branch off her as Gilligan clawed at the ground to pull himself out from underneath it.

"Oh God!" a hysterical Mary Ann cried, giving up and falling back on her arms. "We have to move this –" she gave it a final push with all her might. "Come on," she begged, a bead of sweat dripping from her head. "Come. ON!" she shouted.

"Mary Ann!" the Professor darted through the tropical bushes followed by the Skipper who was sprinting, and finally Mr. Howell, who had barely worked up a sweat with his casual 'Sunday afternoon' stride. "I told you not move!" The Professor chastised, rushing over to her, as the other men followed in tow.

"But my baby!" cried Mary Ann. "This branch is crushing him!" she said breathing heavily.

"Mary Ann, we must worry about your safety first. You might have something broken something or might have internal bleeding."

"I don't care," Mary Ann insisted. "You have to make sure the baby is ok!" she begged, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him down to her eye level.

"Ok, ok, all right, Mary Ann," he said trying to calm her down. "Just lie still and we'll get this branch off of you," he said as he motioned the other two men over. The Skipper wrapped his arms around the branch and heaved with all his strength. Mr. Howell on the other hand grabbed a small branch and tried walking backwards. The Professor bent low to the ground and placed his hands under the base and lifted up with his legs. With the three of them doing it each their own way, they managed to get the branch about a foot off the ground.

"Can you two manage to scoot out from under this thing by yourselves?" The Skipper asked, sweating from holding up the branch mostly by himself.

"Oh yes," Mary Ann replied. She was able to scramble out from underneath the branch and arise shakily to her feet, while Gilligan could only bring himself to roll out of the way.

"Ok, we're out," Gilligan mumbled into the sand; he was now on his front and could not be bothered to lift his head to talk. At the sound of his voice the three men dropped their burden only to be startled once again by an ear drum-splitting shout from the Skipper. The branch had fallen on his foot.

"Pick it up, Pick it up, Pick it up!" the Skipper said through his quickened breathes. "HURRY!" The Professor and Mr. Howell only needed to get it an inch up before the Skipper hastily pulled his foot from the trap.

The Skipper limped about for a few seconds, letting out various forms of 'oooh' and 'ahh' until he felt better. While he was shuffling about in a circle, dragging his damaged foot, The Professor and Mr. Howell made their way to the fallen first mate. He was still face first in the sand, groaning quietly.

"Can you stand, Gilligan?" a concerned Professor asked Gilligan.

"I don't know," Gilligan said miserably, turning his head so he could be heard. "I could try," he propped himself on his right hand and managed to sit up right. He began to lift himself on his right leg, but began to wobble; Gilligan never had good balance. He put down his left foot to steady himself, but promptly recoiled when pain shot up through his leg. He began to tumble forward on his teetering left foot but was promptly grabbed by the two older men.

Mr. Howell took hold his right forearm to steady him, but Gilligan let out a yelp and pulled his wounded arm out of his hand and began to pitch forward again. The Professor reached an arm across his torso to keep the younger man from falling. Once Gilligan was steadied, the Professor draped the first mate's right arm across his shoulders and held up most of his weight.

"Good Heavens," commented the ever bright Mr. Howell. "It would appear that young Gilligan is clumsier than before – if that's possible," he was chuckling hardily. Gilligan looked up pathetically at this remark, his bruise now visual to the millionaire. He seemed slightly taken back at the sight of the blood.

"Now Mr. Howell, this is no time for jokes. Gilligan could be really hurt. He could have sustained serious damage to his tibialis anterior!" rebuked the Professor.

"How ghastly," said a shocked Mr. Howell who had no idea what that even meant.

"Yes indeed," he said, making his point across. He then turned to the Skipper who was now leaning up against a palm tree massaging his foot. "Skipper!" he called. "Do you think you can take Mary Ann back to her hut, while I check Gilligan out?"

"Sure thing, Professor," he said agreeably.

"I'll just go comfort Lovey," offered unoccupied millionaire. "She's terribly distraught over this whole thing," he added before taking off into the jungle.

The Professor and the Skipper rolled their eyes. Mr. Howell had a tendency to avoid sticky situations like the plague. He'd much rather pay someone to deal with anything bad than ever make a real difference.

The Skipper made his way over to the wavering Mary Ann who had not removed her hands from her stomach since she had gotten to her feet. In one quick motion, he had scooped Mary Ann up into his arms and was on his way back to the living area. Mary Ann was hoping Gilligan might speak up about the baby, but he just hopped along as the Professor turned to take him back the huts. Mary Ann, unable to do anything, looked around nervously, hoping _someone_ would intervene. When no one picked up on the source of her apprehension, she spoke up.

"Oh Professor wait!" she called when the Skipper had almost crossed the clearing. "What about my baby?" she said mournfully.

"Mary Ann, I promise I will get to you. Gilligan's situation is a little more dire than yours right now, ok?" he turned with Gilligan still hanging from his neck.

"But – " she called across the clearing, trying to regain his attention.

"Mary Ann, you just have to decide which is more important to you. Your unborn child or your injured husband?" She caught glance of the cut, still dripping blood down the entire left side of Gilligan's face and neck. Those wounded blue eyes told her everything.

"O-ok," agreed Mary Ann. Even though she knew the Professor was right, there was still a small part of her that wished he would examine her first. Mary Ann knew she was being selfish, but she couldn't help but feeling if she lost this baby it might be hard to convince Gilligan to try again. With his reaction to it, Mary Ann silently wondered if she wouldn't ever get the chance to be a mother again.

…

Mary Ann now lay in her own bed, in her own hut, under her own covers. But Mary Ann could not heed the Professor's instructions to try and get some rest. Her hands were glued to abdomen and all she could think of was the tiny embryo inside. She kept having horrible visions of waking up in a pool of blood, or the Professor coming in to tell her_, 'he didn't make it,'_ or even making it to labor only to have it be a stillborn. Mary Ann's eyes fill with tears as she imagined holding her dead infant in her arms only to be forced to put it in the ground.

The Professor seemed optimistic. He had come in to see her a little while ago (mostly because he could sense her fear and wanted to calm her down). He told her it was a good sign she had not bled yet and that she should count consider herself fortunate. This had no effect on Mary Ann.. She couldn't help but be nervous. She was knocked to the ground by a two hundred pound piece of wood. How could her little undeveloped baby stand a chance?

Right now, he had taken Gilligan to his hut and was checking on his vitals and cleaning up the cut on his head. Gilligan was lying on the Professor and Ginger's bed as the Professor was placing Gilligan's left arm in a sling. As he struggled to keep the squirming man still, he couldn't help but wish Ginger were with him. She had always been a terrific nurse whenever he needed to play doctor. She had a wonderful ability to keep people sedentary with her smooth as silk voice that caressed her victims into a state of near comatose. This was how she landed her men, he noted bitterly. When they were just about to fall asleep she would pounce, like a black widow spider.

He didn't mean it of course, but his wounds were still fresh, and he couldn't help thinking the way he did. Gilligan seemed to notice his increased anxiety. He was unable to get the sling on with hurting him, and the Professor was usually pretty good at such things. He looked like something was bothering him.

"Er Professor," Gilligan began, when the Professor had finally finished fastening the sling securely around the first mate's neck.

"Yes Gilligan," the other man replied, wiping some sweat from his brow. "What is it?"

"Well it's just – I was wondering – where's Ginger? You guys do live here together, don't you?" Gilligan was never sure of anything anymore. Maybe Ginger had moved out?

The Professor sighed. "I'm not sure, Gilligan," he said tonelessly. "How 'bout we bandage up that leg now?" he said trying to change to topic.

"Mary Ann said you guys had a fight," Gilligan continued, not picking up on the hint. The Professor chose not answer right away. Instead, he rose from the bed and retrieved the bandages he had laid out on his night table. He picked up one, sat back down and scooted over to Gilligan's left leg.

"Tell me Gilligan, does it hurt when I do this," he applied pressure to Gilligan's calf muscle. He applied a little more pressure than was customary, secretly hoping Gilligan would get the message.

"Ow! Ow! Ow!!" yelped the younger man, nearly kicking the Professor in the face.

"I'll take that as a yes," the Professor said, now carefully laying the first bandage on.

"Yes, yes, yes!" He insisted. The Professor continued to wrap the rest of his leg in silence. He had just gotten the fourth one on with no trouble, when Gilligan spoke again. Gilligan suspected the Professor prodded him to get him to speak, but Gilligan was a firm believer in helping people – whether they wanted it or not.

"You know Professor," he began casually. "I'm sure Ginger'll forgive you. She's real forgiving. Remember the time I messed up our rescue?"

"Which time?" the Professor retorted. Gilligan opened his mouth to continue and then realized what the Professor was getting at. He opened his mouth again to make a rejoinder when the Professor cut him off. "Listen, if it's all the same to you Gilligan, I'd prefer not discussing Ginger right now."

Gilligan crossed his arms a bit put off. "Then why'd you talk about with Mary Ann, huh?" he huffed.

"I confided in her because she confided in me," the Professor said simply, trying to not be distracted from the task at hand.

"I'll confide in you! I'll confide in you real good - " Gilligan sat up sharply and instantly regretted it. He grabbed his shoulder and winced at the fresh surge of pain that swept through him.

"Relax Gilligan," the Professor said pushing his good shoulder back to the pillow. "Don't make any sudden movements."

Gilligan sat back sullenly as the Professor continued to dress his wounds. He hated being left out of things; it often made him jump to conclusions, just as he had done in the tree. Gilligan knew he ought not to but sometimes he just couldn't help it. Overhearing conversations had led to many a disaster on the island. He would never forget the time he thought Ginger had killed the Professor because he overheard them rehearsing a scene. After being made 'island deputy' (so they wouldn't have to worry about would-be murders) Gilligan went gung ho and locked every single castaway in a bamboo prison. This would ultimately lead to another missed rescue opportunity. _Well,_ _no more, _thought a suddenly reinvented Gilligan. He swore to himself he would never (as long as he could remember to) make a conclusion without getting all the facts first. He made a sideways glance at the Professor, who seemed composed but was obviously troubled. _As long as it doesn't involve me getting my big nose in other people's business, _he noted.

"Professor," Gilligan said, breaking the silence.

"Yes Gilligan?" the Professor replied, still a little irritated from the sound of his voice.

"I'm sorry about Ginger, whatever happened to her," he said realizing he still didn't exactly know what happened between Ginger and the Professor.

"That's quite all right Gilligan, it wasn't your fault," said the Professor.

"Yeah for once," laughed Gilligan. The Professor smiled very briefly at this, but it was clear to Gilligan he was in no mood for levity.

"I'm sure wherever she is she feels as bad as you do," Gilligan persisted.

"Badly," the Professor corrected, still looking very focused on his bandage wrapping.

"Huh?"

"It should be 'she feels as badly as I do', Gilligan," the Professor said simply.

"Oh," Gilligan said a little thrown for a loop. "Well uh, anyway," he stumbled, his thought process completely interrupted. "I – "

"All done," the Professor said giving his leg a pat. The first mate winced at the contact, having a feeling it was done on purpose. "I've got to go check on Mary Ann," he said picking up a few of his medical tools. "Stay put," he instructed, making his way towards the door.

"Professor!" Gilligan called to him. The Professor turned in the doorway, obviously still miffed.

"What is it now, Gilligan?"

"Can't you take me with you? I want to see Mary Ann," he explained.

The Professor sighed. "Right now Gilligan, I don't think it would be wise to – "

"Oh please, oh please, Professor!" Gilligan interrupted. "Please I promise I won't be any trouble." Even though the Professor was annoyed with Gilligan's pestering questions, his icy demeanor melted a little at the first mate's sentiment. He wasn't even thinking about how much pain he was probably in and just wanted to be with his girl.

"Ok Gilligan," the Professor agreed. "Ok."

…

Mary Ann sat up. The Professor swung open the door to her hut with her young husband hanging from his shoulders, a sling on his arm and his left leg completely wrapped up in white bandages.

"Oh Gilligan!" she cried. As Gilligan saw her, his features lit up. He did love her so much, she could see that very clearly now. He gave the Professor a head nod to signal he wanted to get over to her himself. The Professor hesitantly stepped away from his friend, keeping his arms out in case the young man should tumble over right there. Gilligan managed to hop his way to Mary Ann's side, her face the only thing he could see.

"Hey Mary Ann," he smiled.

"Oh darling," she whispered. He made a move to sit next to her but his unbalanced weight brought him swiftly to the floor. Mary Ann let out a scared yelp and the Professor made a move to rush across the room, but Gilligan's head resurfaced a moment later.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he said, scooting over towards Mary Ann, still on the floor. "It's best I stay down here," he said looking up at her. "There's no place left for me to fall."

Mary Ann let out a strangled laugh. She was still choked up by his determination to reach her. She reached down her hand to grasp his own. "I love you, Gilligan."

"I know you do, Mary Ann."

The Professor coughed, trying to gain back their attention. "I'm sorry to interrupt your er - reunion, but I came to check on the baby, Mary Ann," he clarified. "If that's all right?"

"Absolutely," Mary Ann lie back on her bed, holding her husband's hand. The Professor extracted his stethoscope and began listening to the insides of Mary Ann's stomach. He was moving the coconut shell back and forth. He passed over one spot and then back tracked hearing something unfamiliar. He bit his lip and continued listening. Mary Ann was so tense she was digging her nails into her own hand without realizing it. The Professor leaned up and placed the stethoscope on Mary Ann's night stand. He put his hands in his lap and appeared to be thinking very hard.

"What is it?" Mary Ann asked.

"Since that you're both here, I guess I might as well tell you now," began the Professor, looking very serious. Mary Ann sat up, one hand pulling at the cloth over her heart, the other clutching Gilligan's hand. Gilligan returned her gesture and looked equally as anxious, shaking ever so slightly as the Professor spoke. "Mary Ann," turned to her. "I hesitated to tell you this before, as you are a first time mother and I didn't want you to be overwhelmed. I intended to tell you once you were a little more familiar with your responsibilities. However," he broke off, collecting his thoughts. "Given the present circumstances, I feel I must inform you now. Mary Ann, you were – well as of yesterday – carrying twins."

"T-t-t-twins?" Gilligan was the first to speak. "As in t-t-two babies?"

"Yes Gilligan, two children." Gilligan looked like he was hard at work trying to process this. He could barely imagine himself being the father of one child let alone two! As for Mary Ann, she sat, shell shocked, completely still with her mouth agape and her eyes frosted over. She was so still she looked like a statue.

"Mary Ann?" Gilligan, turned to her, finally noticing her vice grip on his good hand. "Did you hear the Professor – we're, we're, we're gonna have t-t-t-two babies," he managed, stuttering out of both shock and pain now.

"Well Gilligan, that's the thing," the Professor interrupted. "From what I just heard it seems one of the babies has an accelerated heart rate. If it doesn't stabilize, well – " he trailed off, hoping they understood. They did; Mary Ann finally snapped out of her trance.

"Can't you do anything about it?" Mary Ann begged, bring both hands to her heart. Gilligan seemed relieved to have his hand back and was now flexing his fingers to see if they still had feeling in them. She gave Gilligan a disapproving look before looking back to the Professor, awaiting a miracle.

"I'm afraid not Mary Ann. It is too early in the pregnancy for any intervention. We must just hope that in the next few minutes the infant's heart stabilizes. I must warn you though, both of you," he noticed Gilligan was still examining his hand to see if Mary Ann had caused him any permanent damage. At the pause, Gilligan looked up to show he was in fact paying attention. "That accident could have caused some serious trauma to either infant and – they could have serious developmental issues or disabilities. We won't know for sure until they are born, but I want to warn you that is a possibility."

Gilligan nodded, solemn but calm. Mary Ann on the other hand began to cry.

"Oh Mary Ann, d-d-don't cry!" Gilligan's voice raised a little. He had not seen her cry so much in one day and he was, quite frankly, on the verge of tears himself. "Mary Ann?" his voice cracked this time.

The Professor knew he had just unloaded an emotional bomb on the couple and knew that they'd probably need time to adjust. He decided to excuse himself . "I'll give you two some alone time," the Professor said, rising from his seat. "I'll come back in a little while to check on you," he added, exiting the hut.

"Mary Ann," Gilligan got onto the bed and took her hands in his. Mary Ann seemed to have quieted down but he could still hear soft whimpers coming from her bowed head. "Mary Ann, it'll be ok. The babies will be fine," he assured her. Although he could not know this, Gilligan, at that moment, felt very sure for the first time in his life about what he was saying. "Mary Ann?"

Mary Ann lifted her head, tears still in her eyes. It broke Gilligan's heart to see her this way. He reached his good hand forward to touch her cheek. "Don't cry Mary Ann, please," he begged. "Everything will be all right." He scooted forward and put his one arm around her to pull her into his embrace. She readily accepted, throwing both her arms around his waist and burying her face into his red shirt. He reached up one hand to stroke her hair, slowly rocking her back and forth.

"Mary Ann," he said after a significant silence. "What do you think you would have named them?"

Mary Ann sniffed, pulling back in his embrace to look into his eyes. "Oh I don't know," she said sadly. "I've had so much on my mind I really haven't gotten a chance to think about it," she said wiping her eyes. "Have you?"

"I was just thinkin' about it now," he informed her.

"Really?" Mary Ann replied, the faintest smile gracing her lips. This was the first sign Gilligan shown of wanting to be a father since she had announced it to him. "What did you come up with?"

"I was thinking Boris if it's a boy and Natasha if it's a girl," he said immediately. The smile disappeared from Mary Ann's face.

"Boris and Natasha?" she repeated the names as if they were the names of insects.

"Yeah, you know, like on Rocky and Bullwinkle!"

"Oh Gilligan," Mary Ann said in an exasperated tone, though she seemed to have cheered up a little since the Professor left. She put her head back up against his chest and snuggled close. "I don't think so."

"Well," he began. "I _did_ have another name in mind," he said, more seriously this time.

"It had better not be Lassie," Mary Ann said good-naturedly. "Or Howdy Doody."

"No, no, no. I was actually thinkin' what about um…Lilly? That's kind of nice," he said it slowly as he tried to gage her reaction. Mary Ann was still for a moment and he wasn't sure what to think. "You know – like a flower…" he said slowly, trailing off at the end when she hadn't moved. She suddenly pulled back once more looking at him in awe. The smile communicated everything she was feeling. Gilligan felt a surge of pride at finally doing something right for a change.

"Gilligan – that – that is so…so perfect," she beamed at him. "Where on Earth – how did you think of that?"

"Oh you know," Gilligan said a secret smile playing on his face. "It just came to me!" For the first time in a few days they laughed, both were filled with renewed happiness. They instinctually knew what the other felt and met in a close hug. He rested his head atop hers and the two lovers closed their eyes so as to not be distracted by the external environment. All they wanted to feel was each other's embrace, four hearts beating together (one a little faster than the others) in familial bliss.

Mary Ann pulled back a little and tugged at the edges of his hat so his whole face was brought down to meet her lips. He did not resist her; he just pulled her tighter with his one arm as she moved her hands to his face and neck. As she was swept up in the enchantment of the kiss Mary Ann couldn't help but be grateful for making up.

Mary Ann's urgency to show how much she had forgiven peaked as she threw her arms around his neck, bending him back against the bed. She pulled out of the kiss and started leaving kisses all over his face and neck. She was beginning to get carried away, forgetting any problems she had, just grateful to be with the only man she ever loved. She was about to return to her lips to his when the door to their hut swung open. In the door way the Professor stood, slightly embarrassed upon taking in the scene. There was Mary Ann starring wide eyed, with her husband pinned below her, his eyes closed, smiling. Mary Ann slowly slid off of him as the Professor turned so they could compose themselves.

"Hey where'd ya go, Mary Ann?" Gilligan still had his eyes closed and had not heard the door to his hut open; he was a little preoccupied after all.

"Uh Gilligan," she tapped his leg and he opened his eyes to see the Professor in doorway, still averting his gaze and whistling to himself.

"Oh!" said the startled man as he scrambled to a suitable position.

"I'm sorry for barging in like this," the Professor said as he was motioned to come into the room. "I just thought I would check again to see if – " he motioned to Mary Ann's stomach.

"Oh yes, yes of course," Mary Ann said gesturing for him to sit down. He grabbed the stethoscope that was lying on a nearby table and took a seat the edge of the bed.

"Now lie back Mary Ann. Gilligan," he addressed the apprehensive first mate who was peering over his shoulder, breathing heavily. "Can you back up a little?"

"Oh yeah, sure thing Professor," he moved back about a quarter of an inch, still intently looking over the scholar's shoulder. The Professor sighed and tried his best to ignore the asthmatic like breathing in his ear. He moved the coconut shell about Mary Ann's stomach and listened carefully. The whole process couldn't have taken more than a minute, but Mary Ann was in pure agony waiting for his conclusion. He didn't show any feeling as he did so and when he was finished he lifted himself off the bed into a nearby chair where he stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"What did you hear?!" Mary Ann said, almost ready to bust at his sustained silence.

"Well – " he was cut off by a knock at the door. All three turned their heads to the source of the knocking, the intensity of the situation increasing tenfold. The Professor was sweating and he was only just sitting there. Mary Ann swore her teeth were chattering.

"Who's there?" Gilligan asked, quickest to the point.

"It's me," a familiar voice said. "Ginger," it confirmed. Mary Ann and Gilligan turned their heads in unison to see the Professor starring wide eyed at the door, completely transfixed. They watched the expression on his face change from curiosity to hopefulness to uneasiness. He remained remarkably still until a sneeze escaped the first mate. His attention snapped to the couple on the bed who were both still watching him intently. The Professor raised his eyebrows in a silent plea to reconcile with his wife. Mary Ann and Gilligan exchanged glances. They were both desperately awaiting the results. Yet Mary Ann could not help but remember how the Professor looked when he spoke about Ginger earlier. She looked between the two men, and came to a decision. She would let him to go to her.

As she grabbed hold of her husband's good hand she gave the Professor a small nod, signaling his departure. He got up from the chair and slowly crossed the room to the door. He inhaled deeply before swinging the door open. There, in the moonlight, Ginger stood in a shimmering beaded gown, one of the Professor's personal favorites. Her hands were clasped, her head bowed low, biting her upper lip.

"Ginger," he whispered. She looked up at the sound of her own name. She was fighting back tears that much was obvious, but she kept her countenance calm.

"Would you mind c-coming out her for minute?" Ginger rarely stuttered, which must have meant she was really upset. She had gotten that way when he rebuked her seduction tactics for the first time. He sensed she must be feeling as badly as he did and quietly dismissed himself from the first mate and his wife.

Gilligan squeezed Mary Ann's hand when he noticed the way she watched the Professor leave, as if she would never find out if her baby was dead or alive. He let go of her hand and reached it up to brush her cheek. Her attention was immediately redirected towards the man sitting next to her.

"It'll be ok, Mary Ann," he said quietly. "Everything's gonna be just fine," he assured her. Mary Ann starred deeply into his innocent, boy-like eyes, forever seeing the shining of his pristine love for her. In that moment, Mary Ann couldn't help but feel it all would be ok. Everything would be fine.

…

To be continued


End file.
